


Time Turns to Amber

by Lil_Redhead



Category: Anne of Green Gables (TV 1985) & Related Fandoms, Anne of Green Gables - L. M. Montgomery, Anne with an E (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Alternate universe AU, F/M, Historical Anne and Modern Anne switch places for a while, Soulmates, There's some themes of, kinda like outlander except there's two Annes, update: Operation Anne-Switch is a go!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-23
Updated: 2019-08-06
Packaged: 2019-08-27 23:04:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 35,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16711714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lil_Redhead/pseuds/Lil_Redhead
Summary: The line between universes is blurred when Anne Shirley of Green Gables suddenly switches lives with Ann Cuthbert, a university student living in the contemporary world.Suddenly Anne must learn how to navigate the modern world, one which contains a boyfriend, a part time job, and another year of university. Meanwhile, Ann struggles to tackle corsets, farming, and a world without electricity. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad, but most people can't tell the difference between the redhead they know and the girl who replaced her. Anne (and Ann) have to learn to live as the other and try to find a way back to their own homes.





	1. Parallel Roads (Pt. 1)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [annewithab](https://archiveofourown.org/users/annewithab/gifts).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so thrilled to finally be posting this first chapter. This fic has been stewing in my head for weeks, so I hope you're as excited as I am to begin this adventure. 
> 
> This story will consist of chapters in alternating perspectives - one of them being a historical Anne (the Anne we know and love from the books) and the other being a modern Anne (similar to the Anne of GGF, except spelled Ann). The first two chapters will give us some insight to where each separate girl is in their lives, and this first chapter begins in the historical setting before the switch has occurred. I hope this has clarified your understanding a little!

**Avonlea, 1904.**

 

Standing in the darkness of the ballroom corner, Anne Shirley watched the dancing couples fly across the room in a flurry of whirling skirts to the rhythm of the waltz. Everything had gone according to plan: the preparations, the ceremony, and thus far, the reception. Anything less than perfect would not have been adequate. Diana Barry deserved the best, after all, and Anne had set her mind on providing it for her.

The ceremony was certainly right out of a daydream, with its flower garlands, string quartet, and crystalized colors echoing on the walls like dancing shadows from the chandeliers. Dozens of compliments were paid directly to Miss Josephine Barry, who’d a knack for planning elaborate celebrations and did so annually. But none of the previous soirees or banquets could compare to this magnificent occasion, planned for the bride by her most kindred spirit. Anne had truly outdone herself.

She really should have been happy. After all, she’d never heard of a wedding that didn’t have at least _some_ small little blunder to speak of. But Anne couldn’t help but feel a little bit...well, she might as well come out and admit it - she was jealous.

In the privacy of her own mind, Anne mourned how right the event was. Diana made the _perfect_ bride, and contrary to Anne’s expectations, Jerry Baynard wasn’t all that shabby of a Prince Charming. Each polished spoon and lacy white decoration only suited Diana’s passage into wifehood. Here in this bridal castle, alive with celebration and exuberance,  Diana was the queen - queen over a man who adored the very ground she walked on, queen over her new household, queen over a lifetime of happiness. The most beautiful queen that had ever been born in Avonlea.

Anne, on the other hand, felt like a homely side ornament for Diana. She could never hope for such grand celebrations on her behalf. Certainly, Aunt Jo had told her that if she chose to remain unmarried, she could earn the money to host such a celebration, but Anne had a feeling it wasn’t going to be her choice.

If she were to tell the truth, she’d say that she really did yearn for a married life. She ached for a lifemate, her partner and equal. Perhaps it was selfish, but Anne had hoped in the weeks leading up to Diana’s wedding that if some small little thing went wrong, it would mean Diana’s wedding wasn’t to be a seamlessly perfect event. No such inconvenience occurred, and Anne was forced to face the reality that girls like Diana were meant to have resplendent weddings. Girls like Anne were left to have no weddings at all.

“You know, you seem rather dejected for a girl whose best friend is the midst of the happiest day of her life,” a deep, familiar voice said beside her. Anne didn’t have to look away from the waltzing guests to know who it was, but merely leaned her head onto his shoulder.

“I’m not _dejected_ , Cole. I wanted nothing less for Diana today. If I did, I wouldn’t have planned everything so…” Anne sighed. “Dazzlingly exquisite.”

“Then why are you radiating such dark waves, oh picture of joy?”

Anne did look to Cole then, and she could tell immediately that he knew what ill feelings plagued her heart. He simply wanted her to tell him herself, to speak her mind instead of brewing alone in her sorrow.

“The last few weeks of planning this wedding and seeing how Jerry and Diana truly complete one another has made me realize that I am not the marrying sort.”

Cole frowned.

“You don’t want to get married?”

“No, I _do,_ but can you imagine someone looking at me like _that_?” Anne looked over at Diana and Jerry dancing blissfully in each other’s arms. There was no denying the adoration in Jerry’s eyes, how his love for Diana blossomed from the center of his heart and grew throughout his entire body like a blinding light. “It’s simply impossible.”

“Oh _Anne_ ,” Cole reprimanded gently. “Someone does look at you like that. Only every time he does, you pretend not to notice.”  

“Not this again,” Anne moaned, turning her back to him. “No matter how many times you say it, it does not become any more true. Gilbert Blythe does not care for me like that.”

“Shall I provide you proof? Look at him with Moody over there. Go on, Anne, look.”

Anne’s heart dropped to the floor when she finally gained the courage to look up

Gilbert Blythe was a sight to behold, with his suit all primly pressed for his best-man duties. The contours of his face were lit by the warm chandelier light, making his cheeks look like sunsets of gold and rose. Just to gaze upon him made Anne feel strangely unsatisfied, as if there was something missing, a hole that was craving to be filled. With what, though?

It only seemed to worsen when he gazed back at her, an unfortunate circumstance for the present moment. True to Cole’s prodding, Gilbert’s eyes were locked on her in an intense fashion that she could always feel on the back of her neck. The connection of their gazes lit Anne into red fire, and for a few moments she sat there simmering, aching. She hoped he would look away first because she couldn’t find it within herself to move, but instead he only smiled. No coy, teasing wink. No smirk of boyish taunting. Genuine affection that Anne could feel as presently inside her as if he were standing just before her brushing hair away from her face.

“Now, I think that has put an end to your nonsense,” Cole murmured into her ear. Anne felt more heat flood into her rosy cheeks when she realized her friend had watched the silent exchange. “Go dance with him.”

“N-no,” Anne stammered shakily. Somehow she couldn’t bring herself to admit that he was wrong, not when Gilbert was looking at her like _that._ “I think I’ll go steal a dance with the bride.”

As Anne ventured through the room, she wanted nothing more than to lock herself away in a room with Diana and speak all that was on her mind. But there were to be no more late nights with her bosom friend, no more jumping on beds or pretending to be princesses. Those days were buried in a distant past, and had been for years.

Oh, why did everyone have to grow up and change? Why did Diana have to get married and leave her forever? And _why_ did Gilbert insist on looking at her as if she was the most precious thing he’d ever seen?

Diana might have sensed the raging storm in Anne, had she not swallowed it in time for Diana to lay eyes on her. The endless beauty of bridal white and crystals spun to greet Anne with a euphoric grin.

“Mr. Baynard, I do think you have been monopolizing your darling wife far too long this evening,” Diana teased, extending her hand to Anne. “For the next dance, I believe her interests lie elsewhere. Anne, have you room on your dance card?”

“I’d be delighted,” Anne said with a chuckle. The two spun away with an explosion of very unladylike laughter, too busy desperately holding onto one another to correctly perform the steps of the waltz. Eventually, their giggles subsided and Anne pulled Diana close into her arms.

“Anne, what’s wrong, dearest? If you hold onto me any tighter, I think I’ll turn to dust,” Diana said gently. Anne only squeezed a little and buried her face into Diana’s shoulder.

“You know, I always wanted a sister. Now I have one and  I already have to let you go so soon.”

“Come on Anne, you know you’ll see me just as much as you always did! I’m not going to let married life get in the way of our friendship. You’re just as much my family as Jerry is.”

“My mind knows it, Diana, but my heart refuses to see reason. I feel like my feet are glued to the center of the world and everything is moving so fast around me. I can’t catch up.”

“You’ll figure everything out, Anne,” Diana comforted. She ran a comforting hand down Anne’s head, and it was all the redhead could do to not let tears trickle down her face. Pulling back, Diana took Anne’s face in her gentle hands and Anne had a stray thought that Diana would make the most spectacular mother one day.

“I know in my heart that your feet will get unstuck soon. Next thing you know, we’ll be planning _your_ wedding.” Diana’s eyes glanced over to where Gilbert was standing with Jerry, the pair of lads watching the girls dance.

“Not you too,” Anne muttered, pulling back. “I simply cannot fathom why everyone believes I should marry Gilbert Blythe.”

“Oh, Anne, I didn’t mean to upset you. You just seem so taken with him these days. You’ve spent practically every day together at Redmond studying, even though you’re both enrolled in different programs! With your graduation just completed, we’ve all assumed that his proposal was inevitable and that you would-”

Anne had heard quite enough, and was quick to intercept whatever terrible thing was about to come out of Diana’s mouth.

“Look at that, Diana! Jerry is positively glaring at me. It seems I have stolen away his wife away for too long. I think I’ll go get some fresh air on the veranda. Aunt Jo says the view of Charlottetown all lit up is positively breathtaking. I’ll return shortly.”

“But Anne!” Diana tried to reach for her, but Anne was too quick to press a kiss to her cheek and scurry away.

The escape wasn’t very genteel in nature, but the feeling of fresh cool air in her lungs crashed into her like the summer tide. With the sun safely set beneath the island horizon, the breeze had taken a slight chill that cooled Anne’s skin from the lace of her own white dress. Aunt Jo’s veranda was truly as magnificent as the rest of the estate, with its view over the city and white marble columns.

Shuffling up to the edge of the balcony, Anne leaned at the railing and tilted her face up to the stars.

“Will you align for me, too?” she asked all the flickering stellar brilliance. Maybe her luck had run dry the day Marilla decided to allow her to stay at Green Gables. Anne shook her head - that was a terribly ungrateful thought to have. She’d never exchange her life at Green Gables for anything. But now that she had tasted happiness, was she now to go without it for the rest of her life? Was her happiness meant to stay stagnant where it was when she was the fresh age of eleven, never to grow?

Suddenly, her thoughts came to a screeching halt.

His presence was tangible behind her, though she didn’t hear him come outside. She waited for his to say something, expectant when he finally called out to her.

“Anne, I’ve come to see if you’re feeling alright. You looked pale when you left,” Gilbert said gently into the night air.

“Just a bit lightheaded. It’s dreadfully warm in there with all the lights and people and dancing,” Anne lied. If she was at all dizzy, it was because even from here she could smell the spicy, earthy scent of him from across the balcony. It was enough to make her knees weak. Gilbert knew Anne well enough to see through the lie, but also knew when to allow her to keep her secrets.

“Alright,” Gilbert he replied carefully. He paused, as if deciding what to do, then cleared his throat. “Would you like some company?”

Against her better judgement, Anne replied with a smile, “Always.”

Gilbert fell by her side, leaning his elbows on the railing just inches away from hers. Hunched over, Anne saw the lines of his back, the strength of his shoulders, the moonlight in his hair. The universe certainly was trying its best to paint this man as her ideal, she realized. Never before had Gilbert been so capable of appearing so melancholy and handsome. The girls of Redmond college certainly said otherwise. It was truly unfair that forces unknown should tempt her with her own preferences in a man that was so very...not her preference - at least romantically. Gilbert was her preference in a conversation partner, dinner company, a friendly rival, and a best friend. In fact, she rather preferred his company more than anyone else’s with the exception of Diana.

“What’s on your mind, Anne-girl?” he asked finally, peering up at her with those hazel eyes that sometimes her dreams tormented her with.

“Anne-girl?” she replied with a chuckle.

“I heard Miss Barry call you that earlier. I like it.” He nudged her shoulder with his. “Don’t think I don’t notice you sidestepping the question.”

“I’m not! It’s just that nothing particular is on my mind.”

Gilbert quirked a brow, thoroughly unconvinced.

“Given the events of today, I find that impossible to believe.” Anne was silent for a moment, her fingers fiddling with the smooth ivy that engulfed the railing.

“Oh alright,” Anne gave in with a sigh. She knew she could trust Gilbert with some of the aches in her heart, if not the aspects that had to do with him. “When we were children, I suppose I always foolishly assumed that Diana and I would find happiness around the same time. That fate had us traveling parallel roads.”

“You’re not happy?” Worry sent a frown on his lips that made Anne feel a little guilty.

“I’m happy enough,” she admitted. “Oh, I feel like a dreadful person. Pretend I never said anything.”

“I’ll do no such thing!” Gilbert straightened his back and turned to face Anne head on. “Not until you tell me what’s bothering you.”

Anne crossed her arms over her chest, averting her gaze from his. What was the point in telling him? There wasn’t a single thing he could do to point her on the right path. Nevertheless, she opened her mouth and it was like an electric switch had been flipped.

“Everyone is growing up and deciding what they want to do with their lives. Meanwhile, odd Anne Shirley is weeks into her graduate life and has no idea where her place is in the world. With Diana married, she won’t have any time to spare for me, I just know it! And Jane is planning on spending the summer in England for missionary work. Even Marilla and Mrs. Lynde have been organizing a Lady’s Aid for the church, and have barely been home. Everyone is doing something with their lives and I can’t seem to make up my mind about anything. Not about my vocation, not about you-”

She froze, hoping that if she covered her tracks soon enough, he wouldn’t catch the little slip, but he was too quick. Gilbert had gained some wisdom about Anne in their years at college, and decided to pretend he heard nothing - even if it did make his heart skip a bit to replay it in his mind.

“I think I know how you feel,” he admitted.

“Now that can’t be true, Gil. You’ve known about what you’ve wanted to do since our schooldays.”

“Maybe in general, but certainly not specifically. There are many branches of medicine, you know. I could specialize in the brain or in general practice, if I wanted. Something tells me I’d make a wonderful surgeon, but I’m not sure if that’s what I want.”

“I suppose that’s what medical school is for, is it not?”

“It’s not just that,” Gilbert grumbled, a bit frustrated with himself. Anne turned to him and searched for his eyes. She hadn’t seen any of this turmoil in him before, and they saw each other practically every day. “I have what you would call an ideal in my head of what I want my future to be. There’s a white house on the shore, trees, children, laughter and fun…”

Anne dropped her gaze to the ground. That sounded an awful lot of what she’d always dreamed of as well. Unaware of her embarrassment, Gilbert continued.

“I want a simple country practice, Anne. I want to be a reliable, compassionate doctor. Someone the people can trust.”

“You’ll have all those things, Gilbert. I know that for certain.” He was like Diana - favored by the stars and by fate. Handsome and smart, there was no way he’d ever lack in happiness or success.

“But there’s something important missing right now, and I’m afraid that if I don’t gain it now, if I don’t earn it, then my life will always be lacking true happiness.”  

For a split moment, Anne wondered what it could possibly be. Then, she looked up at him and her heart halted in her chest. The deepest parts of her soul gave a sigh of anticipation and yearning at the desire in his eyes, like it wanted to be consumed by him. The sensation was overwhelming and foreign, leaving Anne stranded at his side unsure of what to believe and feel. Gilbert took her silence to muster his courage and ask something he wanted to know above all.

“What did you mean before about not being able to make up your mind about me?”

Even in her indecisiveness, Anne knew that this conversation was about to cross a line that she wasn’t prepare to travel over. His eyes were too intense, begging, serious.

“Gilbert, it was nothing. Can we pretend I never said anything in the first place?” Gilbert took a step closer to her, and Anne countered with a few stumbling feet backwards until she was pressed against the railing of the veranda.  

“If that’s what you want, Anne, but avoiding me like this isn’t going to help you settle on any decisions. If you’re not honest with me or with yourself, you’re never going to make up your mind about what you want in life.”

“And just _what_ do you think I want, Gilbert Blythe?”

“I think you want someone to stand beside you and love you. I think you want someone to be your equal and support you no matter what path in life you decide to traverse, just so that you won’t be alone when fate tosses you around.” Anne fought back the urge to touch the redness of his cheeks, keeping her fists clenched at her side as he continued. “I’ve not been honest with you all these years, Anne. Not completely.”

The truths of her mind and heart overcame her for a moment and she whispered in a silent plea, “I already know, Gil. You don’t need to say it.”

“I’d be a hypocrite if I didn’t. Anne, I-”

She quieted him in the only way that she could. She grabbed him by the collar, pulled herself up onto the balls of her feet, and kissed him. The second her lips made contact with his, Anne felt herself dissolving, but Gilbert wrapped his arms around her before her knees could crumble. She wrapped an arm around his shoulder, pulling him closer until there was no space for secrets, fears, or longings between them. It was an overwhelming onrush of sensations, with his mouth kissing her with the unrestrained passion he’d locked inside for years and his fingertips gently caressing her cheeks and down her neck. Anne let herself surrender to the need to remain in his embrace, safe and loved, ignoring the cries in her mind that she shouldn’t be doing this. This was _Gilbert Blythe,_ childhood confidant and loyal kindred spirit.

But oh, she could suddenly imagine very simply being a doctor’s wife and having a curly haired, hazel-eyed family. The images came to her mind without any resistance at all - a white house surrounded by dozens of wildflowers, a neat little corner to write in, a husband who looked dreadfully like Gilbert. She could see it all, and she wanted it.

She wanted it enough to let him trail kisses down the soft lines of her chin and down her neck, leaning into him when she felt she might melt into him completely.  The sensitive skin erupted into shivers when he lingered at the cleft of her throat, and she ran her fingers through his soft hair.

Then, with a shaky exhale, Gilbert lifted his head back up and looked into her half-lidded eyes.

“I love you,” he said quietly, reverently.

Reality came crashing back onto Anne, and she fought the urge to tear herself out of his arms and run away. Any hopes and dreams she’d drowned in while he kissed her were gone now, replaced by her own logic.

“I...I don’t know how I feel, Gilbert,” she confessed in a frightened whisper. “That's what I meant when I said I hadn't made up my mind.There’s so much I don’t understand about myself, so much I haven’t decided or discovered. And then there’s Roy to consider. He’s-”

“ _Roy?_ ” Gilbert nearly spat. He knew all about Royal Gardner - the wealthy, melancholy English student who had been vying for Anne’s affection since the day he’d offered her his umbrella in a storm. He sent Anne flowers, composed sonnets to her eyes, showered her in gentlemanly praise. He also _despised_ Gilbert, and once openly blamed him for his own failure to capture Anne once and for all.

“Yes, Roy. He cares for me so, and I sometimes I think I must care about him too.” It was a dagger in Gilbert’s heart and he set his jaw. “But then there’s _you_ , Gil.”

“What about me?” he replied flatly.

“I don’t know yet.” Anne took a steadying, shaky breath. “I need time.”

“We’re running low on time, Anne. Gardner is going to want an answer before you move back to Avonlea.”

“What about you?” Anne said, holding her arms in front of her chest as if to hold her beating heart from breaking out of her.

“I’d wait forever,” he vowed in a low tone. “I’d rather _not,_ but if you need time, Anne. You’ll have it from me.”

“Alright,” Anne said, inhaling late spring air. She gave one last look at Gilbert and his red lips and mussed hair, all effects of the kiss that still had her vibrating with something unknown. Reaching forward, Anne straightened his tie and collar, effectively restoring him to a presentable state, then ran her thumb over his cheek. The skin was damp, whether from sweat or a stray tear, she didn’t know. Then she distanced herself a few steps away.

“Enjoy the rest of the celebration, Mr. Blythe.”

He watched her evaporate into a silhouette against the lighted doorway leading to the manse, artwork in the frame of the present, the past, and a barely attainable future.

//

Diana and Jerry left for Toronto for their honeymoon at dawn, leaving Anne waving after their departing faces on the morning train.

“Our train is next,” Gilbert said, adjusting his suitcase in his hand.

Anne hadn’t been able look him in the eye since their accidental tryst at the wedding the night before. In fact, she hadn’t been able to sleep, think straight, or look at herself in the mirror without picturing the passionate embrace she’d initiated in the moonlight. She rather wondered if it had happened at all, since Gilbert had mastered the art of acting as if nothing had happened.

“I think I’m going to take a walk up the tracks and enjoy the morning sun for a few minutes. These warm days are so freshly new to us, you know,” she said.

Gilbert knew precisely what she was trying to do. He flashed her a look in his eyes that said very clearly, _You can’t avoid me forever, but have it your way,_ and then nodded.

“Would you like me to come find you a few minutes before the train arrives?”

“No, I should be able to keep track of time well enough by the shadows.”

Gilbert wasn’t convinced. He pulled a copper pocket watch from inside his coat and handed it to Anne. She held it up to her ear and listened to the emphatic ticking. It was plain in appearance, but she’d seen it enough times to know that it had once belonged to John Blythe. She even knew where his initials had once been engraved on the side, now rubbed away with time and wear.

“Here, for security’s sake. Marilla will have my hide if I’m late in getting you home,” Gilbert continued.

“Thanks,” she said, biting her lip under his gaze. “I won’t be gone long.”

As she headed down the railway platform and into the loose grass, Anne couldn’t help but feel as she were walking away from something forever, like the last pages of a book before the cover finally is closed. She stopped and turned back to see Gilbert standing on the platform looking after her with his hands in his pockets.

He raised one hand and waved. Anne, forgetting for a minute the events of the past night, smiled and returned the gesture.

Then she turned her cheeks to the summer fragrance being carried on the wind, and walked along the worn railside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I'd love to hear your thoughts and ideas ♥ As always, come and find me on tumblr - @royalcordelia!


	2. Parallel Roads (Pt. 2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally, the set-up chapter for Modern Ann was going to be one chapter, but since I'm starting from scratch with this chapter, it'll be two chapters. As always, I hope you enjoy! ♥ (Also please excuse any errors or typos you see! I'm posting and then running to my schoolwork!)

**Avonlea, 2019.**

If the circumstances had been different, Ann might’ve secretly wished to never move from this spot. Where else was better than this corner of the world with its enduringly beautiful Avonlea sunsets and comfortable July breeze? She also didn’t mind leaning up against the armrest of the plush porch swing with her legs on Gilbert’s lap. Her eyes fell on him and the one hand that rested on her leg, the other typing something into his phone.

“Alright, Ann-girl. I’ve successfully hacked into your bluetooth speakers. The music choice is yours,” he said. His fingers ran up the skin of her leg in a particularly gentle caress, sending chills down her nerves.

“Gilbert Blythe letting someone else choose the music for once? The world must be ending.”

“ _Ha ha,_ ” he replied sarcastically. “Maybe I’ll blast something raunchy and obscene so that even Rachel Lynde blushes half a mile away.”

“You _wouldn’t_ ,” Ann gasped. Temptation slipped into his face, but drained away as quickly as it came.

“Not today I wouldn’t,” Gilbert admitted. Not with Matthew in the hospital in the middle of an open heart surgery after a small stroke he’d had in the fields early the day before. With Matthew condemned to the ICU, Marilla was glued to his side. She insisted that Ann stay home, an assertion that the 20-year-old redhead rebutted with a fierce conviction. But then Marilla began to cry, and Ann realized that the cost of this battle was more than she was willing to pay.

She called Gilbert, who arrived almost instantaneously to drive her home, and the rest was history - less than a day of moving through the house with the ghost of Matthew following her and the eminence of the inevitable looming over her head. The only thing that kept her eyes from glazing over completely was Gilbert’s kind presence at her side - humble and empathetic. What would she do without him, her very best friend who cooked her comfort food and held her when she felt she’d drown in worry?

He was one of the only people who understood her. He was the only one that could have known that when her eyes burned from so many tears that the cure was the spirit of the island in its sunset and summer wind. Only Gilbert could have known that the one place she could rest was on the veranda of her home, swaying on her favorite porch swing and listening to her favorite music.

“Hey, where have you wandered off to?” Gilbert asked gently, scratching his fingers into the skin behind her ear. “You’ve been staring at Hozier’s album cover for a good minute now.”

“What can I say? I love to appreciate art,” she replied weakly, pressed play, then handed Gilbert his phone. As the opening notes of “In a Week” hummed from the small speaker set on the porch railing, Ann shifted so that her head was buried in his neck and his arms could wrap around her like a protective shield.

Yes, if circumstances had been different, she’d be running away from her rapid heartbeat and the peace of being the recipient of many head kisses. And Gilbert would let her flee, knowing that she would have to do it if they wanted to keep this pretense of friendship free from his growing feelings.  It certainly wouldn’t be the first time it had happened.

But for now, this was okay. Matthew was going to be okay, too. They repeated it in their heads, a simultaneous and silent mantra.

When Marilla called Gilbert’s phone later that evening, Ann had already been pulled down by the last purples of the sunset into sleep. She didn’t stir when the folksy melodies had turned to the tritone chime of his ringtone. Gilbert, confident that Ann was deep in the reprieve of a dream, answered the call.

“Hello?” There was a pause, then - “Oh, hey Miss Cuthbert. No, no, everything’s okay. We didn’t hear the house phone because we’ve been on the porch...Yeah, she’s asleep.” There was another pause, a sigh of relief from Gilbert that carried an entire day’s weight with it. “That really is great news, Marilla. I’ll tell her as soon as she wakes up. We’ll be here when you get home. Is there anything you needed done before then?...Are you sure?...Yeah, you too. Bye.”

Gilbert set his phone down and pressed a kiss to Ann’s hair.

“Look at that, Ann-girl,” he whispered into perfumed strands. “Looks like Matthew’s going to be okay after all.”

//

Ann believed that if the world was against her, she had acclimated to its cruelty. She had developed a sixth sense for predicting whether a single moment would tear apart the peace of the present, or bring days worth of joy.

When Gilbert’s name lit up across her phone at three in the morning, paired with the chimes of a phone call, Ann’s sixth sense told her to steel herself.

“Hey Gil,” she answered, voice groggy. “Everything alright?”

She was met with silence for a few seconds, long enough that Ann began to wonder if Gilbert had really meant to call her at all. Maybe he’d been dreaming or slept with his phone in his hand and -

 _“Ann, can you -”_ his voice broke off and she heard him swallow.   _“I’m sorry to wake you up.”_

The strain in his voice was enough to stir her awake completely, and she sat straight up in bed.

“Gilbert, what’s wrong?” She heard a sharp inhale, a few indistinct voices in the background, some strange beeping noises, then a shuddering exhale.

_“My dad was...he’s….he was in an accident. Th- There was nothing they could do. He's dead."_

Ann deflated as if a massive weight had fallen on her chest. She pulled the phone away from her face, almost as if to hide the whimper that came from her lips and the tears welling up in her eyes. Gilbert’s father was all the family he had left.  There were no uncles, no grandparents, no long lost cousins.

And now there was just Gilbert - the last, the only. Her heart split down the center at the thought of him living the way she’d had to, orphaned and lonely.

“Gilbert, I…” A tear slid down her cheek and she swallowed the lump in her throat. “Where are you? I’m already on my way.”

She found him in a waiting room of the Carmody hospital, thirty minutes outside of Avonlea by car. He was slumped in a chair against the wall in the corner of the sterile space, pale faced and red eyed. Ann waited in the doorway, wondering if she should break his quiet grieving, only to have him look up through heavy lashes.

Ann didn’t have to be told what to do then. In a moment she was kneeling before him and wrapping him in an embrace that she hoped would shield him from the anguish closing in around him. His stiff arms came around her in an instant, his face pressed into the comfort of the crook of her neck.

“It’s alright, I got you,” she soothed. Gilbert let out a quiet whimper fingers digging into the soft fabric of her shirt.

They stayed like that for a while, Ann rubbing his back and soothing him as he wept. She couldn’t ask him what happened, only able to ask one of the passing nurses once Gilbert had gotten up to use the bathroom and wipe off his face. John Blythe had been in a car crash driving home from his job late that night, the nurse told her.

“There are only two types of people on the road that late,” the nurse said. “Third shifters and drunks.”

Ann rubbed her hands over her face and sighed.

“Ann,” Gilbert called quietly out behind her. “Can you take me home?”

She looked back to the nurse, unsure if there was any paperwork to be filled out or procedures to be completed, but the nurse nodded.

They drove home in silence, Gilbert’s forehead pressed against the window of the car, glassy eyes watching the blurry trees pass them on the highway. Ann kept her fingers on the wheel, trying her best to keep her focus centered on the snowy January roads. The car had grown cold, so Ann reached a hand over to turn up the heat and face the vents toward Gilbert, who’d forgotten to take a coat when he left the house.

“I don’t know how to plan a funeral,” he admitted quietly.

“I do,” Ann said, “I’ll help you. I’ll write the obituary and call the hospital and funeral home in the morning.”

Gilbert nodded his head, then turned to look at her.

“At home. We’ll have the funeral at home.”

“Whatever you want,” Ann said, pulling into his driveway. The gray house was all shadows when the pair walked up the front porch steps, Ann’s hand entwined with Gilbert’s to keep him standing. She released his hand and watched him collapse on the couch, face turned away from her. She stood across the room for a few seconds, watching his chest rise and fall with an odd, unsteady rhythm. But then, as if a switch had been flipped in her mind, she began to work.

Caring for Gilbert was much easier than she could have anticipated, not because his pain was less than she expected, but because her heart knew his needs without having to be told. She knew that he was most comfortable when he had his own pillow and the large blanket his mother quilted for him during her pregnancy. Ann wrapped him in his quilt and placed the pillow beneath his head wordlessly, wiping a stray tear from the corner of his eye as she stood up.

Gilbert watched as she moved quietly around the room and turned down pictures that had his father in them, knowing that seeing them would hurt too much. Even in his grief, or maybe because of it, he had a strange, quiet realization. Ann Cuthbert was quite possibly the most beautiful thing he’d ever laid eyes on, with her messy bun of auburn hair and strength in her brave shoulders. Bathed in the moonlight coming in through the windows, he could stared at the milky skin of her neck and the tear trails on her cheeks.

Then she came to his side with a plate of peanut butter toast and a shot of whisky. 

“How’d you know where that was?” he murmured in a scratchy voice, nodding down at the shot glass. He brought the copper substance to his lips and let the burn travel down his throat.

“I’ve watched you sneak it out a few times,” she confessed. “I brought you some toast in case you’re hungry.”

He wasn’t, but he took a bite out of it to soften the worry lines on her forehead.

“Thanks,” he said, mouth dry from the peanut butter. “You can go home now, Ann. I’ll be fine.”

“If you think I’m leaving you now, Gil, you’ve got another storm coming,” she said, running her fingers through his hair. “If you want to be alone, I can go up to the guest room.”

“No, I don’t want to be alone.”

Ann nodded, standing up to take the chair next to the couch, but Gilbert opened his arms, causing Ann to pause. With no room on either side of him, she settled with her chest pressed to his, legs tangled together. She thought back to the day of Matthew’s surgery, how she’d wanted Gilbert to hold her just like this in her own sadness. That day she’d been too distracted to notice how her heart raced in his chest. Now she was acutely aware of the effect of his breath in her hair and the intimacy of her heartbeat thumping to the same tempo as his.

She thought he’d fallen asleep when she murmured into his shirt, “Do you think you’ll be okay, Gil?” To her surprise, his embrace tightened and she felt a tired sigh blow through her hair.

“Someday,” was his whispered reply.

//

The wake, funeral, and reception went by in a blur to Ann and Gilbert, who played hosts to dozens of bodies coming and going through the Blythe household. Ann stayed by Gilbert’s side throughout the four days, knowing how exhausting it must have been to spend the last weeks of winter break in mourning. Marilla and Matthew helped too - Marilla bringing by meals and clean clothes for Ann, Matthew coming to fix the wood furnace in Gilbert’s living room when it malfunctioned hours before the reception. Diana came by to help clean the house for a few hours because, _You’re supporting Gil, Ann, but who’s supporting you?_ And when it was all finally over, Ann felt like she could release a breath she had been holding onto since Gilbert called to pick him up from the hospital.

Perhaps she relaxed a little too soon.

“I’m sorry, _what?”_ she choked out. She and Gilbert were sitting on the docks of the Lake of Shining Waters, the pond that separated the Barry and Cuthbert lands. Ann’s face was white, even paler with the sunlight reflecting off of the snow and onto her cheeks.

“It’d just be for a year, Ann. I just have to get out of here for a little bit,” Gilbert said, placing his hand on her shoulder. “Walking through Avonlea with everyone's pitying eyes on me. It's all too much." 

“I’ve haven’t left your side for the past two weeks and you haven’t thought to tell me about this?”

“I knew if I told you I was thinking about it, you’d react like this.”

“And how am I reacting?”

Gilbert took a deep breath and gave a melancholy smile.

“Heartbroken enough that it’d make me consider staying.”

A small little sob escaped her lips and she stood up. She looked out over the frozen pond with its icy fractals, puffs of hot breath blowing fog in front of her face.

“No, I won’t ask you to stay. I know why you have to leave,” she said finally, wiping her cheeks.

“Just think about the sorts of cool souvenirs I can send back from an internship on a cruiseliner. The first stop is Trinidad, you know.”

She turned back to him, biting her lip to keep from smiling. There was no staying angry at Gilbert Blythe for long.

“You’ll call?” she asked.

“Everyday.”

“And send pictures?”

“As many as you want.”

“And when you come back, you’ll finish school?”

“It’s just a gap year, Ann. I’m not waving the white flag yet.”

Ann crossed her arms over her chest and set her face into his shoulder. She hadn’t expected this turn of events, otherwise she’d have cherished his company more, paid more attention to making lasting memories. He brought a hand up to her head and ran his fingers through her hair in a way that was so very Gilbert.

“I’ll miss you too,” he said gently. “I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done since Dad…”

“You’ve done the same for me,” she said, pulling back.

“Still, I appreciate it.”

Their gazes lingered on each other’s for a few seconds, bringing back that same warmth that had started blooming in Ann’s chest whenever she really looked at him. How easy it would be to just rise onto her toes and press her lips against-

“Well, I better start packing,” Gilbert said, clearing his throat. Ann blinked a few times, turning her heated cheeks toward the ground.

“Do you want some help?”

An affectionate spark lit up in his eyes.

“I wouldn’t mind some company. The house is a little lonely.”  

 

Two days later, a small crowd of Gilbert’s favorite people followed him to the Public Bus station. He carried two suitcases with him, his other belongings already mailed to the cruise liner that was to be his home for a year. Ann walked in pace with him at his side, with Diana and their friend Jeri trailing behind. The rest of their friends would be meeting them there, Charlie and Moody, Ruby and Jane.

“I didn’t think everyone would spend their last day of break saying goodbye to me,” Gilbert admitted as he laid eyes on the crowd waiting for him.

“Everyone loves you, Gilbert. Some more than others,” Jeri said, pushing a long strand of brown hair out of her face. She gave Ann a sneaky, sly grin, only to be shot daggers in return.  Before Ann could say anything terribly embarrassing, the group at the bus station exploded with _They’re here!_ and _There you are! You finally quit dragging your asses!_

Ann was quiet as everyone said their goodbyes to Gilbert, who was nearly rendered speechless at the overwhelming explosion of affection on his behalf. His eyes lingered over to her every few seconds, noticing her unusual silence as easily as if she’d been yelling. When she was the only person left to say goodbye, he walked up to her and stuffed his hands in his pockets.

“Whatcha thinking about, Ann-girl?”

“I’m wondering who I’m going to study with, or who’s going to come annoy me at Patty’s Place when you’re gone.”

“I’m sure Roy Gardner will be happy to fill my shoes.”

“Hard pass,” she groaned, nudging him in the stomach with her elbow. “It’s gonna be a long year without you, Gil.”

“You too,” he replied in a reverent murmur. “But I’ll call and text and send pigeon mail and smoke messages just as promised.” She opened her mouth to say something, then closed it, but he could tell there was something waiting on the tip of her tongue. “What is it?”

“I’m about to do something I probably shouldn’t do in front of all of our friends,” she stated seriously.

Gilbert felt his heart leap into his throat, and he swallowed it back with difficulty. There was nowhere else to look but down at Ann, red hair in two braids down the front of her sky blue winter jacket and freckles like snowflakes floating on her cheeks. The chatter or their friends had either fallen silent or he’d simply grown unable to hear it. Ann rose her brows as if asking for permission, and he nodded, entranced and grinning.

Then she was holding the sides of his face and kissing him. Tension drained from them the second their lips made contact, like a long carried weight finally gone from their shoulders. Gasps came from their friends, but neither minded, content to stay held in a tender embrace.

When she pulled back, Gilbert had to remind himself where he was, what he was doing. The look in her eyes was almost enough for him to reconsider the whole internship and stay home to kiss her as long as he wanted.

“They just gave last call for boarding,” she reminded him quietly. Gilbert nodded, not really hearing her. Ann laughed. “That means get on the bus, you idiot!”

Gilbert blinked, looking around at their smug friends.

“ _Oh!_ Right. I’m going. See you guys soon.” He picked up his bag, turned around, took two steps, then turned right back around. Ann, who had deflated the second he’d gone, let out a small gasp when he marched right back up to her.

“Let me take you out when I get back,” he said bravely. Ann let out a half hysterical laugh and covered her face in her hands.

“Okay, okay! Just get on the fucking bus. It’s going to leave without you.”

“You will?” he asked, crooked grin on his face.

“I said I would!” she laughed, then horror crossed her face. “Gilbert, they’re closing the back doors, get on there!”  

He pressed his lips to her cheek, gave one last wave to his friends, and jogged onto the bus. It pulled off before they could find the window he sat by and give their last goodbyes. Then it had pulled out of the station, a distant speck in the horizon, Diana pulled an arm around Ann’s shoulders. She might’ve said something, but Jeri cut her off.

“Well, it’s about damn time,” she stated.

“Leave her alone, Jer,” Diana scolded, then tugged Ann closer to her side.“Come on, babe, let’s get you home.”

//

The kitchen smelled of dried cranberry and crushed rose petals several mornings later, the sun dripping in through the translucent cream curtains. When Ann came down the creaky stairs, she found Marilla working over the stove with her back turned to her. The older woman had her long gray hair tied in a single braid down her back, a style which made people who didn’t know her assume she was some sort of nonconformist.

Ann stood in the doorway, enjoying the swell in her heart at the comforting sight of Marilla at work. Then she pulled her phone out and snapped a picture of the scene for days when it was raining and lonely in Kingsport.

“Morning, Ma,” Ann said lowly, as not to startle her. The nickname was one that had originated from Ann’s pressing desire to address Marilla as Mom, and Marilla’s insistence that Ann merely call her by the name her parents had given her.

“Good morning, Ann,” Marilla replied, wiping her arm against her sweaty brow. “You’re just in time. Can you hand me the rose oils? I can’t read the small print on the bottles.”

Ann swept across the fragrant kitchen over to the counter, where Marilla had her open case of essential oils.

“Who are you making soap for this time?” she asked, rifling through the tiny vials in search for the rose colored one.

“I’m making a large batch. I’ll be donating some to the church for their craft sale, but you may take the extras and send them to Gilbert if you’d like.”

“Ah, found it!” Ann said triumphantly, handing Marilla the oils. “Is that your long winded way of suggesting that Gilbert isn’t bathing?” Marilla sent a glare over her shoulder, mixing the soap in the warm pan. “No, Gilbert doesn’t like soaps that are too sweet. Diana might like some, though! She’s been having a hard time at home.”

Marilla turned off her mixer.

“Why’s that? Her parents aren’t fighting, are they?”

“No, it’s not that. They just...share different opinions with her on certain things, I guess. It breaks her heart to see her parents talk the way they do.”

“You don’t ever feel that way about me, do you?” Marilla asked carefully. Ann draped an arm around Marilla’s back and leaned her head on her shoulder. She took a deep breath, inhaling the aromatic perfume of the soap, then handed Marilla the bowl of dried berries and petals.

“Not even a little.”

At that moment, the back door swung open with a creak, followed by familiar heavy footsteps. Matthew appeared then, wiping his hands on his jeans and smiling at his girls.

“I see Rachel convinced you to make that soap, after all.”

“She reminded me of my ‘Presbyterian duty’ and was more than happy to remind me of all the filthy people just waiting to be cleaned by the soap of the Lord.”

“Oh I see,” Ann said with a nudge. “You just wanted her to shut up.”

Marilla chuckled, turning off the heat on the stove.

“You watch how you talk about her today. She’ll be here any minute now and you know how that woman doesn’t knock before making herself at home.”

“Wait, why is Mrs. Lynde coming over?” Ann grabbed a piece of Wonderbread from its bag and stuffed it into her mouth. “Did someone die recently? Get pregnant? Find their long lost twin on Eharmony and have tear jerking reunion?”

“Rachel doesn’t _always_ come over to gossip, Ann,” Marilla scolded.

“Come on, Marilla, you have to admit that she’s only ever over when she wants to talk shit about people.”

“Language, Ann,” Matthew said with a cup of morning coffee at his lips. Ann knew he wasn’t terribly upset, since he hadn’t even bothered to look up from his newspaper.

“If you _must_ know, Miss Shirley Cuthbert, Rachel is coming over to drive me to the optometrist. I have an eye surgery today. I won’t be able to drive afterwards.”

“You didn’t tell me you were having surgery done,” Ann murmured. “Is it serious? Why can’t Matthew drive you?”

“It’s nothing to worry about. Matthew has things to accomplish and Rachel needs to get out of the house every now and again,” Marilla insisted, pulling off her crafting apron and folding up. “Now, don’t you have somewhere to be soon?”

She gestured down at Ann’s outfit, a tie dye shirt and a pair of boyfriend jeans with a tiny flag sticking out of the back pocket. The flag and shirt featured three colors - fuschia, purple, and blue. To top it off, she had a pin above her heart that read _Kiss Me, I’m Bi!_

“Oh Marilla, my first pride officially out of the closet!” Ann said excitedly. “I just wish everyone could be so lucky.”

“That’s why you’re going today, Ann-girl,” Matthew said, sticking his mug in the sink and then pressing a kiss into her red hair. “Lots of people don’t know that’s okay to be who they are, but you’re an expert in that.”

“I suppose I am,” she agreed quietly.

“Stay safe. Call me if you want to come home and I’ll pick you up,” Matthew said. Ann was about to utter her thanks when Rachel Lynde came bursting into through the door. She pulled off her flashy sunglasses, sticking them in her purse, then took one look at the college student standing unashamedly in the kitchen. She turned right to Marilla.

“The kids of today are losing their minds,” Rachel remarked.

“Oh thanks Mrs. Lynde,” Ann said sarcastically, “I’m only standing _right here._ ”

“I’m just saying that-”

“Rachel, do I need to I remind you about Harmon Andrews’ party back in ‘73 when you and Nancy McLean -”

“ _Marilla!"_ Rachel choked out, but the damage was done. Ann’s brows were raised into her hairline as she tried, and failed, to take the image of Rachel’s sapphic experiences out of her mind. “We’ll be late for your appointment!”

Rachel grabbed Marilla by her wrist, dragging her toward the back door.

“I guess we’re off. Have a nice time, Ann!” Marilla called, grabbing her purse from the back table before she could be completely kidnapped.

“I suppose that means I should get going, too,” Ann said to a red faced Matthew. “I’ll be back to make dinner.”

 

She was standing on the park staircase handing out various flags to empty handed passersby when she saw him. He was a lanky fellow, long limbs and honey colored hair. He had some sort of book in his hands, bounded in a mustard yellow fabric, and judging from the fluid motions of his pencil, he was sketching. Ann only noticed him because every few seconds, he’d peer up at her, then snap his eyes back down to his paper before she could think twice about it. Sitting a few steps down, he kept his bag above him to rest his elbow on. The messenger bag had a few tiny buttons on it, one of which was a thumbnail sized rainbow pin.

Ann left her station for a short moment, and took a few steps down to crouch by him. His eyes went wide when he noticed her before him, and watched nervously as she pulled a rainbow flag from her hands and handed it to him.

“Happy pride,” she said warmly.

“Thanks,” he murmured back, pulling his book against his chest.

“Sorry, I wasn’t trying to look at what you were drawing,” Ann said. “You just looked so lonely over here all by yourself.”

The boy averted his eyes to the pavement but gave a genuine smile that sent a familiar wave of warmth through Ann - the kind that accompanied an interaction with any new kindred spirit. He tugged his book from his chest and handed it to her.

“I hope you don’t mind.”

Ann’s jaw dropped when she saw just what the boy had been drawing. He’d been drawing _her -_ every freckle, every smile line, every loose strand of hair. In fact, Ann didn’t think all the instagram staging or filters in the world could ever make her look so beautiful. There was something raw and ethereal about his sketch, something that made Ann want to be the girl on the paper.

“I...I don’t know what to say. It’s amazing.”

“Sorry I drew you without your permission,” he said meekly. Ann shook her head.

“There’s nothing to apologize for. I’m honored you chose me as your subject. I’m sure there are prettier girls to draw-”

“Aw, come on, that’s not true,” he cut in. Ann shrugged.

“At any rate, thank you for showing me.” Her smile lingered on a moment as she gave him a second to either continue the conversation or return to his work. Bright blue eyes blinked at her, but the boy said nothing. “I should let you get back to it.”

Just as she turned to leave, she heard, “I’m Cole.”

Ann felt a relieved laugh escape her lips; today was not to be a day of lost kindred spirits, after all!

“I’m Ann,” she introduced, sticking a freckled hand in his face, “No E. Though if it were up to me, I’d spell it with an E. Fits my aesthetic a bit more, ya know?”

“I think I can understand that,” he said, smiling as Ann settled down beside him.

“Here, take a handful,” she said, pulling some more flags out of her pocket. “That is, if you want to help me hand them out?”

“Yeah, sure!” The more he spoke, the more be blossomed into happiness, like a flower that needs like but has been kept under shadows too long. “I tried to sign up to work the event, but I couldn’t sneak out of the house without my mom knowing. Even today, she thinks I’m on a field trip for school.”

Ann gave a sputtering laugh.

“It’s the middle of June!”

Cole shrugged. “My mother isn’t known for being the brightest crayon in the box.”

“So, you’re an artist?”

A red hot warmth covered Cole’s face, as if he were ashamed to admit it. He pulled the sketchbook back out and opened it to the first page.

“Kinda I guess. I’m not as good as some people.”

Star-struck at the beautiful works in his soft journal, Ann flipped through the pages with gentle fingers and a tender eye.

“I don’t think you’re giving yourself enough credit. These are spectacular. You’re an artist for sure.”

“Are you an artist too?”

Ann shrugged, thought about it, then shook her head.

“My medium is language, words strung together into pretty constellations of poetry and stories,” she said with a flair.

“So...a creative writer?”

“Ding ding ding! But I’m not good enough to make anything of it. Now you, on the other hand, I think you’re good enough to do whatever you want.”

“Maybe someday,” he said, knowing he had to take some of the compliment or risk disappointing her. “Umm, actually, there is- well, that is, if you’re _interested._ You can say no! I realize that maybe you wouldn’t want to-”

“Cole!” Ann laughed. “Out with it!”

“I’ve been trying to find someone to model for me so that I can practice more portraits. I think I could really make some decent commission money doing them, but I haven’t drawn many - er, women. You be dressed, of course!”

Ann’s face had fallen with shock, and for a second, Cole thought he’d offended her.

“You know what, that’s okay, I shouldn’t have asked,” he murmured quick under his breath. He handed her the flags and moved to pack his things, but she placed a hand on his wrist.

“Wait. I’m not upset you asked me, Cole, I’m just...I was serious when I said there are prettier girls to draw. My looks are nothing special.”

“Well I beg to differ. I look at pretty things for a living and before we met, I was looking at _you._ Maybe it can help us both out. I can show you how you look through the eyes of other people.”

“I know already how people look at me.”

“I mean the ones that count.”

Ann flipped back to the sketch Cole had been drawing of her minutes ago, and stared at it for a second. Then she made the mistake of looking up at his hopeful eyes, the ones that longed for a kindred spirit for too long, the ones that had taken this one risk.

“Fine, I’ll do it. But it’s your fault for choosing me if your pieces come out looking odd.” Cole only smiled.

"I'll risk it."

//

They met every Tuesday in the late afternoon. Ann chose the time because she said it was when the sun was directly outside her window, bathing her the pastel turquoise of her room with “the most beautiful golden light in all of Avonlea.” She could have chosen three in the morning seven days a week for all he cared, he just wanted out of his house. Besides, if he’d brought a _girl_ to his house, he knew for sure that his mother would say, “Cole MacKenzie, did you finally get over that homosexual phase you were in?”

Ann’s home was one were he felt safe, the first few visits showing him all he needed to see of Marilla and Matthew Cuthbert, the kind siblings who’d adopted Ann.

“How long ago did you come out to Marilla and Matthew?” Cole asked one day, not taking his eyes off the intricate details of his sketch. Ann herself sat in the window seat, cross legged and looking off to the right.

“Matthew knew from the first day,” she confessed. “I was sitting outside my group home in Bolingbroke. One of the boys had just teased me about having a crush on one of the girls from school. Really, I think he was just projecting a bunch of his bullshit onto me. Matthew originally intended to adopt _him -_ he and Marilla had planned on adopting a boy, and James was the only guy in the house - but then he met me and the plans changed. Matthew heard all about my crush at our first meeting, among other things. I talked his ear off.”

“And it didn’t bother him even a little?” Cole couldn’t imagine the unconditional acceptance of a parent, not with the way things were in his household.

“Nope. He never dated women, so I’ve often wondered...But in the end, his acceptance of an LGBT youth was what convinced my case worker to assist him with the adoption. The rest is history. I told Marilla several months later, and was officially out in Avonlea earlier this year. All of it made for a very undramatic coming out story.”

“You’re one of the lucky ones,” he murmured bitterly.

“I am. I’m blessed,” she replied sincerely. “But Cole, you’re my friend now. You’re part of this family, whether you like it or not. You’ll be one of the lucky ones soon.”

Cole smiled at this, considering offhandedly that she was right about the sunset in her window. In that moment, she looked like a fiery angel, fierce and strong.

“I’m already one of the lucky ones,” he decided.

The moment was broken by Ann’s phone chiming with a recognizable little chime. Ann didn’t budge, but only moved her eyes to see her phone sitting on the seat beside her. A smile erupted on her face and she broke her pose, swiped across her screen, and held the phone up.

“Hey stranger!” she said.

“ _Hey yourself, carrots.”_ He was as lovely as she remembered, with those soft brown curls and warm hazel eyes. His face lit up as soon as he’d seen her, and Ann was sure she mirrored the expression. It’d been so long since he’d had time to call, giving her plenty of time to remember parting at the bus station.

“You’re lucky I’ve missed you too much to acknowledge that _abominable_  nameyou just called me,” she said sweetly. “Oh, Gil, how are you?”

Instead of Gilbert answering, she heard another voice come in from the background.

“ _Alright Blythe, the shower is yours, but don’t take too lon-”_ A face appeared in the screen, bearded and dark eyed. “ _Is that your girl there? Ann?”_

Gilbert swatted the man away as Ann laughed, “Guilty!”

“ _Can’t a guy make a call home in peace? Ann, that’s Bash, one of the guys I met working here.”_

Cole came around and poked his mop of blonde strands into the frame.

“Any friend of yours is a friend of mine,” Ann said. “This is Cole, the friend I told you about from pride.”

 _“Oh hey, man! Nice to finally put a face to a name!_ ”

“Cole, this is Gilbert, my…” Ann gaped for a second, causing Gilbert to raise his brows. “This is Gilbert.”

“I’ve heard lots of good things about you,” Cole said with a smile. “Medical man, right?”

“ _The very same,”_ Gilbert replied.

“Hey, Gil, I thought you were rooming with that Nova Scotia man. What was his name? Jake? John?”

“Jeff _,”_ Gilbert offered. “ _Bash’s roommate was being a racist asshole, and so the room director let us switch.”_

“ _The man didn’t want to shower in the same place I had. Can you imagine?”_ Bash cut in.

“Oh, I think I could,” Cole grumbled the same time Bash called out, “Oh, _tell her the news, man!”_

“News?” Ann said carefully. “Everything alright?”

“ _No no, everything’s great. Seriously, Ann, you’d be the first to know if something was wrong. I have a feeling you’d feel a disturbance in the bosom connection between the two of us.”_

“Now wait a second-”

“ _But I called to let you know that my supervising doctor onboard is thrilled with my performance the last few months. He wants to get in touch with a colleague at the University of Toronto. You know, set me up an interview so that I could meet the board and get a head start on planning for grad school. It’s an amazing opportunity, and a great connection to have. Plus, the University of Toronto is one of my top choices.”_

“That’s great, Gil, but isn’t that...you know, really far away?”

_“Not any farther than Trinidad and the rest of the Caribbean.”_

Ann bit her lip and forced herself to smile. While Gilbert was off saving lives and delivering babies, where would she be? In the back of his mind?

“Don’t forget about the small people when you’re becoming a big fancy doctor.”

 _“Forget about you, Queen Ann? Never.”_ Ann blushed, feeling the same way that she might if he suddenly told her he was in love with her - heart racing, stomach fluttering. Suddenly the image on the screen shifted away to a very passionate face of a very passionate Bash.

“ _Oh Ann, I wish I could tell you of my plans for you once I graduate medical school! I’m going to be a biiiiig fancy doctor and we’ll get a biiiiig fancy house.”_

 _“Hey!”_ Gilbert cried. The image on the screen turned into a rollercoaster as Bash swung the phone away from Gilbert’s grabby hands.

“ _And we’ll get married and have teeny, weeny little spitfire babies. Twenty of them!”_

“ _Sebastian! I’m serious!”_

_“No? How’s twenty-five?”_

Ann exchanged an awkward look with Cole, who’s smirk gave off tangible energy.

“Gilbert’s cute,” he murmured knowingly.

“ _See!”_ Bash laughed.

Finally Gilbert was able to snag the phone away from his obnoxious roommate, and his distressed face greeted Ann when he finally managed to steady his hand.

“ _Sorry about that._ ”

“Not at all,” Ann said, shaking her head. “It’s just nice to hear from you, even in embarrassing circumstances.”

_“I know I haven’t called much lately. I’ll fix that.”_

“Effective immediately?”

 _“Yes ma’am,”_ Gilbert said officially with a solemn nod of his head. _“Listen, I have to get back to my post soon. I really will call. Next time, I want to hear all about how Diana’s doing and Marilla’s eye surgery, okay?”_

“Yeah, okay,” Ann said, forcing her voice to stay even. “Hey, Gil, you know…” If it was Marilla, Matthew, or Diana, the call would have ended with Ann’s typical _I love you._ But she couldn’t say that now, not to Gilbert. Not because it wasn’t true, in fact, each day she knew more and more that it _was_ true. The fact that it was true made it terrifying, especially now that he was thinking of going to Toronto. Cole grabbed her hand where Gilbert couldn’t see it, seeing some of her thoughts across her face.

“ _What is it?_ ” Gilbert probed.

“Take care of yourself, yeah?” she said finally.

“Love you too, Shirley.”  Ann’s heart gave a pleasant little jump. He always knew her so well. “Talk to you later.”

She smiled right as the phone beeped and went black. Ann heaved a heavy sigh and threw her phone onto her bed.

“Well, I feel like my life is complete now that I’ve finally met Gilbert Blythe: the man, the myth, the legend,” Cole said dramatically.

“Oh please, it’s just Gilbert,” Ann said, settling back into her pose. Taking the cue, Cole grabbed his sketchbook again and sat in front of her.

“But he’s not _just Gilbert_ to you.”

Ann sighed and gave Cole a surrendering look.

“No, no he’s not.”  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It may take me a little longer to post chapter 3 with college finals around the corner, so I tried to add a little length to this chapter. Come say hi on tumblr - @royalcordelia! xx


	3. A New Perspective

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> CW: There's a tiny bit of sexual content in this chapter, but nothing you wouldn't see on TV (I think).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had such a hard time getting myself to write this. It seemed so daunting to cover everything my outline said. But here's the second half of Modern Ann's story. Hopefully this helps paint her world and those around her. The future updates will be a bit shorter, and the updates quicker. Please forgive any typos - I tried!
> 
> I want to dedicate this chapter to lollercakes, remylebae, and Purple_Slippers_18, whose BEAUTIFUL stories lit the aogg flame in me again. Thank you for all your hard work and the beautiful stories you give this fandom! 
> 
> Many thanks to Alexis, for helping me finish this with her critiques and her screaming. ily babe!

It seemed like more than a year had passed, more than a lifetime. To Gilbert, the time spent away from Ann held an odd feeling of being numb, stuck in ice and going nowhere. It was stupid, because he’d spent the last year of his life sailing _everywhere._ Still, walking down the narrow hallway of Ann’s childhood home with its creaky boards and crooked hanging pictures - a handful of which he was featured in - Gilbert felt himself thawing. Peace and excitement were fresh in his chest, like boiling water turning to steam in the frigid air. Through the thin walls, he could hear her. 

“...back any day now,” Ann said in answer to whoever was in the room with her. Gilbert stopped outside the room and listened for a few seconds, hoping he could gain control over his heart. “He said he’d call before he started the voyage home, so he should’ve called a few days ago. Imagine that, Gilbert Blythe fucking voyaging around the world like some epic hero.” 

“Not that you’re jealous at all, stuck here in Avonlea.” By now, Gilbert recognized Cole’s voice.  

“I’m not!” There was silence, the sound of a pencil scratching across paper. “But I do worry that maybe he met someone else on the ship. There are _a lot_ of pretty girls in bathing suits on cruise ships. Maybe one of them-”  

“That I doubt. Even I know he’s crazy about yo- _Hey,_ sit still! Eyes closed.” 

Assuming that she listened to the instructions, and curious to see just _what_ was going on between them, Gilbert cracked open the door. His heart erupted in his chest, expanding to the limits of his ribcage with a sweet pain that left him breathless. 

Ann sat on the window seat, kneeling back on her haunches with her chin tilted up toward the rare midwinter sunset. Warm yellows and oranges rained down on her like molten gold, and her hair was a waterfall of copper down the expanse of her back. Through the thin white of the curtains, Gilbert saw the shadows of trees swaying silhouettes on her skin. She looked like a woodland creature on fire with magic and beauty. 

Cole, who’d been sitting a few feet in front of her, turned back and saw Gilbert with wide eyes. Just as he opened his mouth to say something, Gilbert brought a finger to his lips. This was supposed to be a surprise visit, after all. The artist nodded, waiting to see what the surprise visitor would do next. 

Eyes back on Ann, Gilbert moved forward on quiet steps. 

“Are you going somewhere?” she asked cautiously. 

“Nope, I’m still here. Sit still,” Cole answered as casually as he could.

Inspiration struck Gilbert, a quiet idea blossoming in the corner of his mind that he grabbed onto. He took advantage of the space beside Ann, kneeling next to her and looking straight at the honey freckles of her cheeks. Her brows furrowed when she felt a presence before her, but she sat still, and Gilbert had to fight back the urge to reach out and move a piece of hair from her cheeks. He wondered if he should say something, but was loath to ruin the sunny warmth of their nearness just yet. 

Then a click of Ann’s polaroid camera came from Cole’s direction, and her eyes snapped open. 

Gray met hazel and her lips dropped. Her ecstatic, shocked grin matched his, and as she opened her lips, Gilbert’s heart seized in anticipation for whatever lovely thing she’d say to him. 

“Gilbert Blythe, you piece of _shit!”_ she said, voice choked with tears. But then she was all laughter and dimples as she flung herself into his arms and held him there hard enough that the breath had been knocked from him. He escaped her death grip just enough to slide his arms around her waist and bury his face in the crook of her neck. “Why didn’t you call? I was promised pigeon mail!” 

“Can’t a guy surprise his best friend in peace?” Gilbert chuckled. 

Ann pulled back, holding him at a distance by his forearms. Her face was serious. 

“And...and you’re back for real. You’ll be home for the summer?” 

“Yes, carrots, I’ll be home for the summer. I don’t plan on leaving Avonlea to go _anywhere_ until I have to go to Charlottetown to settle some stuff with the bank about my loans. I barely want to leave the house.” 

“And then Redmond in the fall? No surprise study abroad trips to like, Nepal or something?” 

“Not unless you want to come with me.” Her expression was exasperated. “ _Ann,_ I’ve seen my share of the world for now. I’ll turn on location sharing on my phone if you don’t believe me.”

Ann nudged his knee and leaned her head onto his shoulder. 

“Cole, I can’t believe you let him do that,” she murmured into Gilbert’s fresh, cottony shirt. She found herself drawn to the way that his usual scent was laced with the faint perfume of ocean brine. 

“Someone had to get it on camera. Might as well be the aesthete.” Cole replied, waving around a white-bordered polaroid picture between two fingers. He gave the image a pleased glance before handing it over to Ann. “Looks pretty good if I do say so myself. If someone didn’t know any better, they’d say you two look like you’re in love.” 

Ann tumbled over the window seat, legs wobbly from kneeling back onto them for so long. She steadied herself with a hand on Gilbert’s shoulder, and fixed Cole with as sharp a glare as she could manage with tingling legs. 

“You know what, Mustardseed,” Ann revved. The - albeit odd - nickname caused Gilbert to quirk a brow in her scowling direction. “Tease all you want, but next time you interact with Royal Gardner, it’s going to be candid city, baby. Portrait mode was made for capturing the beauty of a blossoming gay romance.” 

“No it wasn’t,” Cole countered, “It was made for...I don’t know, _portraits_.” 

“ _Gay_ portraits!” 

Having heard quite enough, Gilbert tugged Ann by her hand, sending her plummeting back onto the window seat. His arm settled around her shoulders, sending a warm chill through her that began in her chest. For a moment, she completely forgot about her friendly sass battle with Cole and found herself distracted by how different Gilbert looked. His edges were cleaner, and there was a new steadiness in his eyes that Ann recognized as maturity and sophistication. 

“It’s nice to see you haven’t changed much,” he admitted, peering down at her with a comfortable reverence. Ann, who was not accustomed to being the object of such obvious adoration, dropped her gaze to her lap.

“‘Course I haven’t changed much. You’re the one who left Avonlea. Farthest I went was to Redmond for orientation.” She paused. “How about you, Gil? Are you very different?” 

His eyes grew serious, but never lost their tenderness. 

“Maybe. I left Avonlea unsure of what I wanted.” 

“And now? Do you know what you want?”

He bit his lip to suppress a grin, an effort which was only partially successful. Cole made gagging sounds in the background. Gilbert didn’t hear him and pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

“You could say that.” 

*

It was the only time Ann was ever thankful for Marilla’s insomnia. 

With Matthew and Ann fast asleep, Marilla had the entirety of the house’s peaceful quiet to herself. She leaned her head against her porch rocking chair, taking deep breaths of the fresh air in an effort to ease her mind into slumber. The darkness of the country let the woman count stars and draw constellations of her own taste. She was alone with the chirping of crickets and the occasional gust of gentle breeze until a rumbling sounded from the end of the avenue. 

Marilla stiffened. Was that a car? No one ever came down the lane this late at night. Their home was nestled so deep in the country that their closest neighbor was half a kilometer away. She prepared herself to hurry back into the house and bolt the door behind her, but she paused when she got a better glance at the car that had pulled into the driveway. 

Shooting to her feet, Marilla squinted as the headlights blinded her vision. Even so, Marilla knew exactly who was stumbling out of the car, hiccuping on her own sobs and staring up at the older woman with her blood-shot eyes. 

“Diana, sweetheart, what’s wrong?” 

The question only seemed to upset the girl more, so Marilla shuffled over to her and caught the girl into a safe embrace. Diana practically collapsed with relief, a new bout of sobs wracking her as she clutched onto the silk of Marilla’s nightgown. 

“Oh, you poor thing, _shhhh,_ ” Marilla soothed. “You’re okay, I’ve got you. Do you want me to go wake Ann? Can you tell me what’s wrong?” 

Diana filled her lungs with few wobbly breaths, and swiped her shaking hands across her umber cheeks. Marilla grabbed the girl by her elbow and sat her down on the porch step, rubbing a comforting hand across Diana’s back to calm her down. 

“...Could you get Ann?” Diana asked timidly. She took another deep breath. “I know how it looks, but no one is...hurt.” 

Marilla wanted to shake the girl and ask with a frantic tone _Then why are you at my house sobbing at 2am?_ But her maternal instinct won out, and she tiptoed upstairs to get Ann. 

Wild with bedhead and wrinkled pajamas, Ann flew out onto the porch and knelt on the step below Diana. They took one silent look at each other, then fell into a hug that was as comforting as their first. Diana dissolved against Ann, finally starting to calm down.

“Di, what’s wrong? What happened?” 

Diana rubbed her knees with her hands, unable to meet Ann’s eyes. She glanced up at the Cuthbert land and the fireflies that flickered like stars in the tall grass.

“My mom found out about Jeri and kicked me out.” 

In the doorway, Marilla lifted a hand to her chest and squeezed her eyes shut. 

“You know what the worst part is?” Diana whimpered. “I really thought it was going great. I brought Jeri over for dinner. They loved her, they loved that they could speak French with her. She told them all about how she’s basically a half-French florist genius. I really thought they respected her, but the second we told them we were together, my mother lost her mind. She yelled, and cried, and she would’ve called the pastor if I didn’t remind her how late it was. When I told her I didn’t intend to change any time soon, she just handed me one of the empty duffels from the closest and told me not to come back.” 

Ann took one of Diana’s hands in hers and rubbed the knuckles gently. 

“I don’t even know what to say. We both thought your parents would react better than this. But you’re going to be okay. They’re not your only family.” 

“Ann’s right,” Marilla cut in, kneeling down beside both girls and wrapping an arm around each of their shoulders. “You can stay with us as long as you need to. Forever, if you want. And trust me, dear, I know your mother. She often resorts to dramatics when things don’t go her way, but she’ll come around. Until then, we’ll take good care of you.” 

Diana leaned her head onto Marilla’s shoulder and closed her eyes. 

“I’ll be right back,” Ann said. “There is a _large_ glass of cordial inside with your name on it.” 

She paused in the doorway. 

“Know what? I’ll just grab the whole bottle.” 

*

Ann had been on her own before and she was going to do everything in her power to make sure that Diana was well taken care of. Diana Barry would not know how cold it was to sleep in a car or how lonely living alone could become - not on Ann’s watch. If Mrs. Barry wanted to play the “financial provider” card, Ann was fully prepared to lay down her winning hand. 

She snuck out of bed the next morning, tucking the thin quilts around Diana’s sleeping frame. As she worked her way down to the porch, where the walls would give her some privacy, she scrolled through her phone for the right contact. With a deep breath, she tapped the screen, and brought the phone to her ear. 

“Hello? Yes, it’s Ann Cuthbert…I’m well, Rollings...Yes, is she awake yet?...Great, thank you.”

“ _Ann-girl, I didn’t know you could get up so early in the morning. To what do I owe the pleasure?”_ a familiar teasing voice called. 

“It’s not _that_ early, Aunt Jo,” Ann teased back, though she doubted her tone was convincing. Aunt Josephine began to say something else, but Ann pulled the phone closer to her face and said, “Actually, I do need your help with something. You’re not going to be pleased.” 

The line was quiet.

_“Ann, have you gotten yourself in trouble?”_

“Me, trouble?” Ann laughed nervously. “It’s not me this time. It’s Diana.” 

“ _Diana!? What in heaven’s-”_

 _“_ Before you say anything, she’s okay and it’s not her fault. She didn’t do anything. At least, not anything you wouldn’t do.” 

“ _That’s not terribly encouraging, Ann. Out with it.”_

“Diana came out to her parents and her mom kicked her out.” 

Aunt Jo let out a small sound of grieving disbelief. 

“ _Because she’s a lesbian. I can’t believe…”_ Ann leaned up against one of the porch pillars and leaned her head back. “ _You know, I expected that sort of behavior when I was her age, but I truly didn’t think it would happen to her. Not to Diana. That woman has the_ audacity _to banish her oldest child from her home when_ I _helped her buy it.”_

“Trust me, I’ve been driving the Ada-Barry-Is-Psychotic train for years now. Marilla and I will take care of her as long as she likes, but I know she’ll start to feel like she’s overstaying her welcome.”

There was a sniffle on the other line, as if the whole ordeal had moved Aunt Jo to tears. Ann felt her own eyes getting prickly, but she waited for the wise woman to make her decision. 

“ _Ann, dear heart, I know that you would go to the ends of the earth for Diana, and that her staying with you is no imposition. But I’m going to come and make sure she’s taken care of. Would it be alright if I came over? I can be there in forty minutes?_ ” 

“Sounds perfect. I’ll see you then?” 

“ _Of course_ .” Ann was about to utter her goodbye when Aunt Jo suddenly called, “ _Ann-girl_?” 

“Yes, Aunt Jo?” 

“ _I love both you and Diana very much. I appreciate you and Miss Cuthbert treating her as your own, and want you to know that I consider you my own too._ ” 

A tear trickled down the side of Ann’s face, and she nodded, even though Aunt Jo couldn’t see her. 

“ _Alright, sweetheart, I’ll see you shortly._ ” 

A few hours later, Ann was pulling raspberry lemon biscuits from the oven when she heard some shuffling from her room. Maybe the fragrance of her favorite food had roused Diana. Sure enough, Diana’s feet treaded lightly down the steep stairwell and through the parlor. When she came into the kitchen, her face was saddened with the memory of last night and shame at her own intrusion. She had borrowed one of Ann’s cotton robes, and had it crossed over her chest. Her red eyes looked at Ann, a tray of steaming baked goods in her hands, to Aunt Jo, who waited at the kitchen table. 

“Aunt Josephine!” Diana cried. Her feet stumbled a few steps back. She couldn’t admit that her own family had failed her; unless, of course, Ann had already told her. When the frail woman said nothing, and stood with opening arms, Diana knew Ann had been the one to call her. Diana was tired of crying, but she couldn’t stop her lips from quivering as she buried her face into her Aunt’s shoulder. They held each other for a moment, until finally Diana said, “I’m so scared, Auntie. What am I going to do?” 

“Why are you scared, my love?” 

Ann settled down across the table and watched quietly. Diana could feel her best friend’s presence behind her, and she couldn’t find it in her to be embarrassed. Instead, it only empowered her to speak her mind. 

“My mother said she wouldn’t pay for college unless I broke up with Jeri and chose to study Hospitality like she did when she was in school.” 

Aunt Jo pulled back from Diana and stared at the girl straight in the eyes. 

“She said _what?”_ She released a humorless laugh. “Darling, your mother lied to you. _I’m_ the one paying for your education. That money has been set aside for _years_ for that purpose. Diana, you can study anything you want, anywhere you want. That’s the one thing I never wanted you to worry about.” 

“You…” Diana blinked, stunned. “You did that for me?” 

“A grown girl has a given right to an education. I always wanted you to have that if you wanted it.” 

“I want it,” Diana said eagerly, tears collecting at her chin. “Music school.”

“Then it’s settled! You’ll come live with me for the summer and we’ll get right to sending out some applications.” 

“That’s really okay? You won’t mind?” 

“Diana Barry, I never want you to doubt that I love every minute of your company. Even when we disagree. And I want to meet that fine lady of yours. Ann tells me she’s quite the kindred spirit.” 

A blush settled high on Diana’s cheeks, and she wiped her eyes. 

“Jeri’s the best,” she said warmly. “I think you’re really going to like her.” 

Just then, Ann’s phone lit up with a notification. It was a retweet from a post she’d made about how “Homophobia is literally the acne of the planet,” but what really caught her eye was the three missed calls she had from Gilbert.

She swore. 

“What’s wrong?” Diana asked. 

“With everything going on I totally forgot I was meeting Gil for coffee today at eleven.” Diana’s brows shot up. “Look, before you say anything, we’ve been trying to solidify this whole ‘first date’ thing for almost a month, but I keep panicking. This time I actually intended to go!” 

“It’s Gilbert. He’ll get it,” Diana stated, as if that simple phrase would solve all of Ann’s problems. 

“Exactly! It’s Gilbert, and I’m trying not to screw it up. Currently not doing so hot.” 

She stepped out of the room and tapped on his name. The phone rang once before he answered, almost instantaneously. 

“ _Ann? Are you okay?”_

 _“_ Relax, doctor, I’m alright. I feel like a massive idiot for completely forgetting about lunch today, and I think as compensation, you should just dig a hole that I will bury myself in presently.” 

“ _Oh Ann, I’m not worried about that. I saw your tweet. You’re sure you’re alright? It’s not like you to forget things.”_

She tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear and sighed. 

“Things got a little crazy around here last night. Diana came out to her mom and it didn’t go too great.” Gilbert whistled in disapproval.

“ _I_ _s she okay?”_

“She’s in one piece. Aunt Jo stopped by this morning and we’ve come up with a solution.” 

“ _Is she still there? Can I say hi?”_

Ann brought the phone to her shoulder and returned to the kitchen. 

“Gilbert wants to talk to you. Is that okay?” 

The girl nodded, a soft smile on her lips.

“Hi Gil boy,” she said when the phone was pressed against her ear. The nickname brought them back to the days when they lived on the same block in their tender days of youth. She was the Queen of the neighborhood, the only girl in a street of boys, and Gilbert was her most loyal knight. When Ann moved in half a kilometer away, Gil’s loyalties shifted to the girl who made him stop and stare, but Diana was happy to share her valiant protector.

“ _Hey Di. Heard you had a rough night.”_ Diana sniffled. “ _J_ _ust wanted to let you know that we got your back, alright? Anything you need, you got it. No questions asked. I can even bring you a family sized bag of Smarties.”_

“You’re something else, Gilbert Blythe, but you’re a good friend too. I’ll be fine. Take Ann out this afternoon, won’t you? Keep her occupied.” The girl in question watched from the doorway and rustled as the two most beloved of her friends conspired against her.

“ _My pleasure. Love you, Queen D.”_

“Yeah yeah, love you too. Bye Gil. Here’s Ann.” As Diana handed the phone back to her best friend, she looked around the room at the people who cared about her, the people who would fight for her, and the weight on her chest lessened. It hadn’t disappeared completely, she doubted it ever would, but if this small crew was to be her real family for the rest of her life, maybe that was something she could grow accustomed to.

Ann peeled out of the room and smiled as she held the phone back up to her ear. 

“It’s me again. I hear you’re taking me out today.” 

“ _Yeah, well, my coffee date stood me up this morning, so my afternoon is suddenly free. Would you be available for a surprise outing - and don’t ask what it is, that defeats the point.”_

Biting her lip, she could feel a blush creeping up her cheeks. She was glad no one was around to see it. 

“Is this a romantic outing?” she asked quietly. 

“ _Oh, the romantic-est. Prepare to be swept off your feet.”_

A laugh burst from Ann’s lips, and she covered her mouth in embarrassment. 

“I’ll let you have this round, Gil. Pick me up whenever?” 

“ _Can you be ready in, like, two hours? Dress to get a little dirty.”_

*

Ann always dressed to get dirty, ever since she was little. Marilla, who had done her fair share of Ann’s laundry, could testify to all the smudged grass stains on the knees of her jeans and the odd stains where the girl had gotten into dirt, the creek, and once, a berry bush. She had dreamed about looking beautiful on her first date with Gilbert. He’d ask her to a cute restaurant near the coast, and she’d wear that one forest green dress that made her look like royalty. She’d steal the breath from his lips and graze her fingers over his arm as she said hello. 

She couldn’t lie - there had been _a lot_ of daydreaming while he was gone. 

But now, with Gilbert due to pull up in his father’s old Jeep at any second, Ann couldn’t help but feel a thrill of confidence. It was a strange feeling to get from only an old cropped shirt and a pair of booty shorts, but she felt like she could take down an army. 

Leaning up against the side of her porch from the steps, Ann braided some long pieces of grass together and hummed. She heard the fall of Marilla’s footsteps as they came to stand in the doorway, the screen door acting as the only thing separating them. 

“Now remember, Ann, text me if you’re going to be late tonight.” 

“Yes, Ma.” 

“And _do not_ stay over at his house. I know it might be tempting because you’ve known each other for years and have waited for a long -” Ann covered her ears and scowled. 

“ _Jeez,_ Marilla, you can stop there. I’m not sleeping with him on the first date. Not even close to being ready for that stuff, yet. Rest easy.” 

“You’re going to be with Gilbert Blythe,” Marilla stated. “Just that fact helps me rest easier.”

As if right on cue, the scraping of tires against gravel sounded from the end of the avenue, and up the lane came Gilbert driving at an incredibly respectable speed. Dust settled as he parked on the edge of the driveway, just as he always did. He slammed the door as he rounded the front and took his first eyeful of Ann. His lips split into an awed grin, gaze lingering on her lips where she’d put on a hint of cherry lip gloss. 

“You’re a vision, Ann-girl,” he murmured, more taken than he’d ever let himself sound with her. “Afternoon, Marilla.” 

“Good afternoon, Gilbert. Enjoy yourselves, now.” They waved as they headed back to the Jeep. Marilla stepped out of the door before she could rein herself in. “Wear your seatbelt, Ann!” she called. 

“ _Ma!_ ” Ann hissed, unable to meet Gilbert’s eye at being treated like an eleven-year-old. Gilbert only laughed and gave her a gentle nudge in the arm. Soon, they were driving down the old dirt road, the rattling of the Jeep and the FM radio humming the silence away. 

“Sorry again about this morning. I could hardly fall asleep I was so excited, but then Diana showed up and I just wanted to _punch_ Ada Barry. I’ve never seen Di so heartbroken before. She’s doing better now, though,” Ann explained. 

“Like I said, nothing to apologize for. Aunt Jo took her back to Charlottetown?” 

“Yeah. It’s going to be odd not having her so close. I really feel like the days of Diana living in Avonlea are over.” 

“Hey now,” Gilbert comforted, grabbing her hand that rested on her knee. “Cole is there to keep her company, and we can drive up whenever we want. It’s only forty minutes. That’s nothin’.” 

She expected that he’d pull his hand away, the way he always did, but this time, he merely locked their fingers together and gave a little squeeze. Ann couldn’t tear her happy gaze from where their grasps fit perfectly together. 

“So,” Ann started, kicking her feet onto the dash the way she always did in the Jeep. “Is Bash all moved in?” 

“Just about. He’s waiting for a few more boxes to ship in from Trinidad, but it’s definitely beginning to feel like the house belongs to the two of us.”  

When Gilbert had first told Ann about his plans to move Bash in, she was thrilled. Finally the people in Avonlea would stop their whispers about _Oh, that poor Gilbert Blythe. All alone in that big house._ The smalltown gossip didn’t stop, though. It only changed. Suddenly Gilbert was the _city boy who let a black man into his home!_ A bearded farmer had stage-whispered that in the diner the day Gilbert introduced Bash and Ann. Unluckily for his narrow mind, Ann had heard him, and she dumped his plate of eggs and home fries down his lap. 

The wait staff had looked the other way. 

“Did I tell you his wife is moving in, too? They’re taking the master bedroom,” Gilbert continued, snapping Ann out of her thoughts.

“I didn’t even know he was married. Have you met her?” 

“Oh yeah, Mary’s great. She’s actually from Newfoundland, so they’ve been long distance while he’s been working the cruiseliner. She just bought the dry cleaner’s in Charlottetown, so they want to settle down. Definitely a force to be reckoned with.” 

Ann leaned her head against the seat and let the roaring breeze from her open window lash against her face. 

“I’m trying to think of stereotypical first date questions,” she said. “Admittedly, I’m not very good at this whole dating thing.” 

“You’re doing just fine,” Gilbert replied, squeezing her hand. He thought for a moment, then clicked his tongue with an idea. “If it’s stereotypical first date questions you’re after, what is your favorite color?”

“Yellow,” they answered at the same time. Her lip curled at the question. 

“Too cold,” Ann assessed. 

“What’re your opinions on politics?” Gilbert tried again. 

“ _Too_ hot,” she scowled. “Not that you don’t already know all that.” The mirth in his eyes simmered into something much more tender. 

“How’s this then?” Gilbert said quietly, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “Have I told you that you look unquestionably beautiful today?” 

Ann bit her smile in her teeth, peering up at this new Gilbert Blythe from her lashes. 

“You may rack up some points yet, Mr. Blythe.” Gilbert grinned, turning his attention back to the road. Letting her hand extend the barrier of the open window, Ann drew designs in the air with  her fingers as the gusts of wind pushed her arm up and down. “Is it still pointless to ask what the heck you’ve got planned?” 

“Nope, I think we’re close enough,” he decided. He untangled their hands for a second to reach into the back seat of the Jeep, where he pulled out a 64 pack of Crayola sidewalk chalk and set the box on her lap

“We’re entering the Sidewalk Chalk competition in Carmody today!” he announced.

“Oh my god! Wait, really!? We’re actually going? For real? Gilbert -” Ann stuttered as she stumbled over her words.  “I always wanted to go but I always miss it for dumb reasons! One year I was getting my wisdom teeth out. The next year, I slept through it. ” 

“I know,” he said, pleased with his own success. 

“And you got the big pack of chalk because you know that sixteen colors isn’t _possibly_ enough to create a masterpiece!” 

“There’s also iced tea and sandwiches in the cooler to keep us going. Plus there’s a pineapple upside down cake and two forks with our names on them.” 

Ann squealed and pressed an ecstatic kiss on his cheek. The Jeep swerved the tiniest bit before Gilbert laughed, the sound filling the small space. 

“How did you even plan this?” Ann breathed out, opening the box to run her fingers along the fresh chalk. 

“Well, when I was sitting at Starbucks this morning waiting for my date to arrive…”  Ann bristled and stuck her tongue out. “I saw the poster on the wall and thought to myself, _Wouldn’t it be a shame if Ann had to miss this for the trillionth time_. Then you called. The timing was perfect.” He paused. “Am I still racking up those points?” 

“Oh, and then some.” 

 

All of Carmody had come out for their biggest event of the summer. Moms and dads wheeled their tiny tikes in plastic wagons, ice cream cones in their grubby hands. A few professional artists had set camp on their sidewalk squares, donning their paint splattered smocks and setting out their tupperware containers of chalk. The judges, whom Ann didn’t recognize, waited at a table, sipping lemonade and laughing together. 

“Names?” the registration volunteer asked. Ann turned her attention back to the table, but Gilbert had already taken charge. 

“Gilbert Blythe and Ann Shirley,” he replied, shifting the cooler against his hip.

“No E,” Ann muttered politely. The woman scribbled out the E that she had written at the end of Blythe and smiled. Gilbert had to grab her wrist to keep her from correcting the poor woman further.

“You folks are all set,” the volunteer said. “Here are your name tags. Your square will be down at the end of the block, on the corner of Chestnut St.” 

Ann carried all 64 vibrant colors close to her chest as they walked down the block. Some people had already begun their masterpieces, but judging wouldn’t take place for another two hours yet. As soon as she saw their clear square of sidewalk, Ann felt her lips curve up into a grin. 

“We got lucky. That’s plenty of room,” Gilbert commented, taking in the size of the square. 

“I guess we should just hop right to it,” Ann said, a little apprehensive. “Did you have any ideas of what we should draw?” 

“You first - I know you had to be conjuring some plan while we drove here.” 

“I’m itching to draw something mystical,” she admitted. “A pixie sprite, _or_ a mermaid! I just want to immortalize a little magic in this small town.”

An affectionate grin sparked light into Gilbert’s eyes. 

“Immortalized until it rains, you mean?” 

“No, Gil, the memory of it will linger on this block forever,” she said dreamily. “When people walk over this spot, they’ll feel it.” 

She could feel herself getting plenty overdramatic about a simple sidewalk competition, but couldn’t find it within herself to care. Not with the breeze catching her hair, not with Gilbert’s adorative eyes watching her. 

“I wanted to draw the sea. I’ve kinda missed it since I came home,” he said. “You could absolutely add a mermaid or two in there.” 

Ann’s own eyes lit up, and he knew she was seeing the possibilities. 

“How about our shoreline at sunset? I always feel breathless when I see it. We can put a sailor on the pier, and then a mermaid gazing up at him.” 

“I’m up for a challenge, if you are Miss Cuthbert.” 

They got right to work, intent on using every minute of their two hours to their advantage. Neither of them had terribly magnificent art skills, but leaning on each other for help, the scene slowly came together. Ann spread herself flat on the ground, swirling fuschia, indigo, orange, and yellow chalk to billow fluffy clouds in their sky. Gilbert sat with one knee up at the opposite end of the square, using all the blues in the box to create sweeping waves over the shore. 

The time flew as they worked and chatted. Ann was halfway through a story about a mishap in her human biology class when Gilbert glanced at her and chuckled. 

“What is it?” Ann laughed with him, confused at the interruption. 

“You’ve got one beautiful purple smear across your chin,” he said, laughing even harder. She must’ve set her hand down, then wiped it across her damp face. 

“You’re the one who told me to dress to get dirty. Wipe it off for me, will ya?” 

She set her hands on either side of the square and leaned forward, sticking her face out for him to examine. The smitten gleam in his eye rooted deep within him when he looked upon her. Another breeze came by and swept a few stray hairs across her face. The purple of the smear, a funny thing moments ago, sparked affection in him as it harmonized with the carmel color of her freckles. Up close like this, Gilbert remembered how many different shades of blue were hidden in those gray eyes. 

“Seriously, Gil, you can just wipe it off. I don’t mind.” 

Smiling at his own thoughts, he brought his hands up to cup her chin and cheeks, gently wiping away the violet chalk from her pale skin. When the only marks left were the ones that stretched onto her lips, he stared dazed. Ann’s own eyes became serious as she understood the desire he radiated. Self conscious and heart pounding under his attention, Ann licked her lips as she dared to meet his gaze. 

She knew what he was going to do before he did, but when he kissed her, it still sent a shiver of lightning through all of her nerves. It was tender like their first kiss before Gilbert’s parting a year ago, humble in the public setting. Ann sighed, using one hand to hold herself up, the other to grip his t-shirt. They stayed like that, him tasting her lingering words, and her tasting the things he never said.

Someone walking by them cleared their throat, and they broke apart with a tiny gasp. Foreheads touching, Ann murmured, “Favorite color?”  

Gilbert chuckled, deep and low in his throat. He shook his head. 

“Too cold.” 

“What’re your opinions on politics?” 

“Too hot,” he breathed, pressing his lips against her cheek and lingering there. Ann felt her cheeks turn the same shade as the fuschia sunset under her. 

“Have I ever told you that I’m crazy about you?” 

A lovesick grin erupted on his face and he pulled her in for another kiss. 

“Just right,” he said against her lips. “Now we better get to work if we’re going to finish on time. Besides, you’re kneeling into the lighthouse.”  

Ann dropped her eyes down to the ground. Sure enough, her freckled knee was pressing into the rough cement, smearing the chalk that she had carefully drawn. She plopped down beside the sidewalk square and laughed. 

“I almost think it looks better that way,” she admitted.

When it came time for judging, Ann and Gilbert watched from the street as a group of four people slowly walked past all the sidewalk art. Ann’s foot tapped the closer they neared to their beach scene, and Gilbert put his arm around her shoulders. 

“It’s got a mystical heart to it. I can feel it, can’t you?” one of the judges commented. Of the four, she looked like she’d be the one most likely to accept magical content. A long bohemian skirt billowed at her legs with a thousand different patterns, her gray hair almost long enough to reach her bottom. The judge turned around and looked directly at Ann. Something in her gaze made Ann lean more into Gilbert, who noticed the odd way the judge peered at the anxious redhead. 

The other judges brushed the long-haired woman off as they continued to assess the other pieces, but the nervous, unsettled feeling in Ann lingered. 

When they were finished, all the competitors gathered around a gazebo in the main park where an official looking man gave introductions. Ann vibrated with nervous energy as he droned on and on about the event’s sponsors, but finally, “And now for our winners!” 

Ann gently hit Gilbert’s arm as if to say, _It’s time!_ He chuckled, “I know, I know!” 

“In fourth place with an honorary mention award is Grace Albert, with her piece on...uh, rainbow horses!” 

Deflating, Ann remembered seeing that one. She’d been holding out for the honorary mention award, knowing they didn’t stand a chance against the professional artists. 

“In third place, we have Ann Cuthbert and Gilbert Blythe, with their piece depicting the Avonlea seashore! Well done, you both!” 

Ann blinked. Had she heard correctly, or was her imagination simply taking over again? Gilbert nudged her and she began to walk forward on her own volition. The closer they got to the stage, the more real it became. A grin bloomed on Ann’s face, and she beamed at Gilbert. 

“Best first date ever,” she whispered, grabbing his hand. 

Ready to give them their prize was the long haired judge, who only had eyes for Ann. 

“Congratulations, forest pixie,” she said. Her tone of voice was only half cognizant, half lost on a cloud. She handed Ann a small package wrapped in translucent fabric. “Your prize is of my choosing. Light this incense whenever you need to see from a new perspective. Use it wisely.”

“Uh, thanks!” Another judge handed them their ribbon, and away they went, the woman’s strange words echoing around Ann’s head. 

“Was that kinda odd, or was it just me?” Gilbert muttered into her ear. Ann shook her head, unsure of it herself. “What’s the consensus? Was she a kindred spirit?” 

“I think...she could be,” Ann answered. “But I get the sense she plays tricks. Like a ‘careful what you wish for’ kinda lady. I don’t know.” Gilbert rubbed his hand over her back. 

“Alright, Queen Ann. Ready to pack up and head home?”  

Ann buried her face into the crook of his neck as they walked, inhaling the smell of his cologne and sighing. 

“Today’s been a wonderful day, Gil. More amazing than I expected when I woke up.”

“But you’re tired and ready to get back to your quiet country nook?” he finished for her. She nodded. 

It was a quiet drive home aside from the quiet 80’s tunes Gilbert played softly on the radio. He sung along under his breath, nodding to the rhythm. 

“You can turn it up and sing for real if you want,” Ann commented, running her thumb over his knuckles. He detangled their hands and turned the knob on the panel. 

“I think I will.” He was lucky he could sing.

When he pulled to a halt at the foot of the Green Gable’s driveway, Ann swung out of the car. 

“Don’t walk me to the door. Marilla is definitely going to be watching,” she said before she closed the door. 

“You sure? I don’t mind.” 

“I do. What if Rachel is in there?” 

“Fair point. Come over on this side then.” She did, circling around the front of the truck where Gilbert had rolled down his window. They stared at each other, unsure of what to say. 

“I’m glad we finally got around to doing this,” Ann admitted. “I’m sorry it took me so long to warm up to it.” 

“Things happen the way they’re supposed to. I think we’re starting this right at the perfect time.” 

“You think so?” 

His eyes softened. 

“Come here,” he breathed. Reaching his hands out of the window, he grabbed onto her face and kissed her gently, the way guy always did in the romance movies at the end of first dates. Ann was glad she could count herself along with them.

Then he pulled back and asked, “So when our friends ask us how this little outing went, we tell them…?” 

“That you took your girlfriend out to Carmody and had a lovely time.” 

A grin burst on his face and he nodded. Ann spun on her heel and called over her shoulder.

“Night, Gil! Thanks again.” 

He smiled in response, eye’s falling on something on the Jeep floor. 

“Hold up! Don’t forget this!” It was the package they’d won, and certainly Gilbert didn’t want it.  She took it from his, the aroma of the incense already filling her senses. 

“Can’t forget this. Who knows when I’ll need to see things from a new perspective.” She glanced back at him. “Then again, I think I already have. Bye, doctor.” 

The porch door swung open behind her as she watched him pull away. 

“Did you have a nice time?” Marilla said. 

“The nicest. I think I’ll keep him around for a good, long time.” 

“Just as the Lord intended!” called Rachel from the kitchen. 

Ann shot Marilla a look, but they laughed together. It was the beginning of a new season, even though it was only an afternoon outing to a nearby town. She peered down at her prize. She didn’t need her new perspective yet. She already had one. 

*

The next year passed without any excitement beyond what was usual for Avonlea. Ann watched her friends change as the days passed, but wasn’t afraid to confront the realization that it was okay if they got older and wiser. Diana was accepted to the University of Toronto for music, where she began her education in the fall a few years older than her other first year peers. Naturally, this made her one of the most beloved girls in the program - beautiful, talented, and wise beyond her years. 

Cole took Diana’s room in Aunt Jo’s house, ready to get out of his own bigoted home. Even he was growing bolder and stronger. 

Ann supposed she was too. After all, only a few years ago, the thought of dating Gilbert Blythe would have filled her with days worth of dread. Not because she didn’t like him - she’d always liked him - but because she’d been steadily rebuilding her sense of self-worth. Maybe seeing her other friends take risks in themselves gave Ann the freedom to let loose 

The summer after their third year, everyone who had wandered off the island found their way back home. Things were much the way they’d always been - Marilla making soap in the kitchen, Rachel spilling gossip across their dining room table, and Gilbert crossing hell and high water to see Ann everyday. 

“Marilla tells me that it’s your one year anniversary with Gilbert,” Matthew said one morning. Ann looked up from her coffee and failed to hide her soft smile. He sipped his own black coffee and hit the mug on the table with a slight _thud._ “Time sure flies.” 

Taking her dirty dishes to the sink, Ann let her peaceful gaze look out over the yard and the warm dawn light that bathed the land.

“It’s days like these when I’m so thankful. Thankful to you and Marilla for giving me a chance, thankful to Gilbert for never failing me, thankful to myself for not passing up all the opportunities for happiness.” 

She took Matthew’s dishes as well, eyeing him when he shifted in his seat the way he always did when he wanted to say something. 

“Marilla and I are going into Kingsport for the night to talk to some contractors about fixing up the barn some. We’ll be back tomorrow afternoon.” 

“Oh yeah? I can call up Aunt Jo to see if you guys can stay in one of the guest rooms. That way you won’t need to get a hotel room.” 

“Marilla has already taken care of that,” Matthew stammered. Ann tossed her drying rag over her shoulder and lifted her brow. “I only mean to say that, well...Tell Gilbert we said hi is all.” 

Ann spun back to the sink to hide her incredulous shock. Was _Matthew Cuthbert_ encouraging her to bring her boyfriend over? Her quiet, shy father _?_ The plans she’d made with Gilbert consisted of dinner at a nice restaurant, maybe a glass of sweet wine. Was it too late to invite him over, make dinner for him? Rarely did they have the house to themselves.

“Okay. I’ll be sure to extend the greeting,” she said as evenly as she could. 

When she called Gilbert early that afternoon, she half expected him to prefer they stick to the plans. 

“ _Nah, Ann-girl, I’d be totally down for a night in. Think about it. We can watch whatever movies we want, dance in the kitchen while the food’s cooking, drink as much as we want to. No judgement from the peanut gallery. It doesn’t hurt your that closest neighbors are half a kilometer away.”_

“Can we still...you know, dress up? You can bring a change of comfy clothes, but I had this dress all picked out and well…” 

 _“Definitely wear the dress,”_ Gilbert agreed. _“Should I stop for, uh...anything?”_

“Nope, I’ve got all the groceries here.” There was a pause. 

“Sounds like a plan, my dear. I’ll get dressed and head right over,” Gilbert finally said, amused. Ann felt like she missed a joke, but said her goodbyes. 

Before she knew it, Marilla and Matthew had left for Charlottetown and Gilbert had pulled in, the Jeep creating its familiar cloud of dust near the barn. Ann couldn’t help but chuckle at the dramatic entrance he made, appearing out of the dust in smooth dark pants and a storm blue button down. She appraised him from the window as he stepped up the stairs, sleeves all rolled up in the way that drove her mad.

“Ann, I know you’re leering from the window,” he called at the front door. “Let me in?” 

Cheeks red from powered rouge and her own anticipation, she swung the door open. As soon as he saw her, his jaw dropped - the exact reaction Ann had been hoping for. The little red bodycon dress had been hiding in the back of her closet where Marilla couldn’t see it - classy but sexy. A hungry expression crossed his face and he wrapped an arm around her waist to kiss her. Ann lifted a hand to his chest and let him dip her back ever so slightly with his ardor. 

“You’re _mesmeric_ , Ann,” he said as he pressed a kiss to her neck. “And you know I wouldn’t use that word lightly.” 

“Have you looked in a mirror?” she replied. “You haven’t even see the food, yet. I know how to please my man.”

Please him she did, with her conversation, the meal, the sweet way she looked across the table with the one candle she’d lit in the middle. Gilbert had his own present waiting in a folded piece of paper hidden in his pocket. 

After dinner, and a half hour on the couch where Gilbert was granted the opportunity to thoroughly appreciate Ann in her dress, they changed into their cottony clothes and settled down in Ann’s room. She plugged in her fairy lights and watched her boyfriend appraise the space in the nighttime light. 

“This is a nice little corner you’ve got set up,” he commented. It was what she called her “Imagining Corner.” Perfectly assembled, it had a mountain of pillows overtop ten of the fluffiest blankets she could find, turning the floor into a plush cloud that she could write and read to her heart’s content with. Gilbert spread himself on the blankets and opened his arms for Ann to lay with him. 

“Wait a second, I want to give your present,” she said, reaching into her closet. 

“I thought we said no presents, that were saving up our cash to do stuff at Redmond.” 

Ann waved his practicality away with her hand, then pulled out three massive books. 

“We were out of wrapping paper.  Close your eyes and hold out your hand.” 

“I already saw they’re books -” 

“Just do it!” 

Gilbert sat up, eyes firmly squeezed shut and arms stretched out to receive whatever massive volumes she was about to hand him. He exhaled sharply when they made contact. 

“Okay, open those pretty hazel eyes.” 

He complied, gaze falling on three of the largest books he’d ever come to own - an MCAT practice book, _Gray’s Anatomy_ , and _The Principles and Practice of Medicine._

“To get you started,” Ann said with a shrug. Gilbert ran his fingers over the smooth covers and resisted the urge to open each book to swallow all of their contents. She knelt beside him, studying the unreadable expression on his face. Had she picked out the right ones?

“Ann I- This is amazing. Thank you!” She accepted the speechless kiss he offered with a proud grin. “How’d you know which ones I needed?” 

“A lover’s intuition?” she guessed. 

His mood shifted as he took a deep breath, settling in front of her as he reached into his pocket. For a moment, Ann panicked, certain he was going to pull out of a velvet box, but all he pulled out was a crumpled wad of paper. 

“I hope mine is right, then. Here. Sorry it’s a little rumpled. It was folded all nicely earlier.”

Ann accepted the paper and gently unwrapped it. On it, she found Gilbert’s familiar handwriting and an address: 

 _Bertha Shirley_  
_4664 Silver Springs Rd_  
_Calgary, Alberta T3B 23C_ _  
_ (403)-247-6098

“I might be the worst boyfriend in the world, because for our anniversary, I meddled with your life. But, I just got this idea, and maybe I should’ve asked you before I went ahead with it,but...I found your mom. At first, I thought she was dead like Marilla thought she was, but then I hit a lead and followed it and well, here she is. Bertha Shirley.”

“Gilbert -” 

“Before you say anything, it’s on paper so you can do with it what you want. You can carry it around, crumple it up and throw it in that black hole of a closet, or burn it in the fireplace. It’s up to you.” 

“This is-” 

“And I know sometimes you wish you had gotten to know her. I just love you so much and I want you to have everything that makes you happy. If getting to know your mom is one of those things, then we’ll pack up right now and drive to Alberta in one of those really cute rental cars. And-” 

“Sweetheart, you’re rambling.” Then, she blinked. “Did you just say you love me?” 

“Does that surprise you?” he answered in a low tone. “Ann, I’ve always loved you for _everything_ that you are. From day one, it’s just been you.” 

“That long?” Ann choked out. “I can’t believe you did this for me. This is the most selfless, thoughtful…” She paused when she felt a tear trickle down the side of her cheek. Gilbert brushed it away and nodded. Then, with barely any sound, Ann freed herself. 

Whatever he was about to say next was knocked out of him as Ann closed the distance between them. Gilbert fell backward onto the pillows, gazing up in surprise as Ann climbed onto his lap and pulled the pins from her hair. Auburn waves plummeted over her shoulders, framing her face as she leaned down to kiss him. He met her halfway, a hopeless sound escaping from his throat. It only spurred Ann on more, who moved against him in hopes it would elicit a similar sound. 

“Sweetheart,” Gilbert choked. Ann’s lips trailed down his throat. His eyes fell on her fingers, which had begun working on each frustrating button of his shirt. “Darling, look at me.” 

Ann immediately pulled back, lips glossy from their kisses and turned into a frown. 

“Am I pushing you?” she faltered. 

“ _No,_ no!” Gilbert swore, fingers tracing down her neck. “But when I asked if I should pick up anything...Well, we’re just a bit unprepared is all.” 

Pushing her fingers through his scalp, Ann delighted in the way his eyes fluttered shut. 

“Ye of little faith,” she murmured, then stood up. The warmth where she’d gone left with her. He watched with hazy eyes as she pulled a box and a purple case out of her bedside table. She held the items up for him to see, and he immediately blushed scarlet. “We’re more than prepared.” Birth control _and_ condoms. How long had she been thinking about this? 

On her way back over to him, she locked the bedroom door and settled back down on his lap. The protection in her hands fell on the bed next to the nook, forgotten for the moment.

As much as he loved the feeling of dissolving with Ann seated straight above him, Gilbert felt his desire take control of his instincts. Arms wrapped around her waist, he flipped them so she lay comfortably against the pillows beneath him. Between kisses and sweet utterances, he let her fingers continue the buttons of his shirt until there was nothing in between her touch and his chest. She lingered above his heart, its heavy drumming grounding her to reality.

“You should know, I’ve never done this before,” she admitted. She knew he knew, but it didn’t keep her from fearing her own inadequacies. “If I’m not doing well, you’ll tell me?”

“Hey, I’m new to this too,” he replied honestly. “Besides, you’re already doing _too_ well. I can’t keep up.” 

Ann settled back on the cushions and smiled like a temptress. She raised her arms behind her head, and Gilbert felt his mouth go dry. 

“I’ll slow down a little, then.” 

Secretly, Gilbert had fears of his own. After all, he’d only been waiting for this moment since they’d met. He wanted it to be sweet, loving, the way everyone hopes their first time will be. And now here was Ann, offering herself to him with all her silky skin waiting to be touched, and all he could do was stare at her in awe. 

They didn’t need to rush, he reminded himself. This could last as long as he wanted. 

He ran his fingers up the smooth skin of her legs until he reached her cotton shorts. He tugged them down her ankles, kissing the exposed skin above her breast where her tank top dipped. The shirt was next to go, after which Ann decided she needed him undressed just as quickly. When she was bare before him, his mind had gone blurry. How would he ever love this girl the full amount she deserved? How could he give her the world? 

“Want me to keep going?” he asked, his own voice shaking as he lowered himself onto his elbows. A love drunk smile lit her lips. 

“We love consent,” she approved. “Yes, Gilbert, don’t you dare stop now.” 

Ann was the one who usually believed in things like the stars aligning and fate, but of all the things he’d ever done in his life, this felt like it was planned and intended to happen. The way she careened into his touch as he prepared her for him, the soft noises that his gentle praise rose from her. He loved the taste of her skin, the pink of her breast, and she loved having him there, loving her above where her heart hadn’t stopped racing. He would spend the rest of his life exploring the different ways to make her reach all of her highs, and carry her as she fell back down to earth. 

When they became joined, Gilbert thought he might just be a believer in fate yet. 

It was better than they hoped it would be for their first time. Ann wasn’t as sore as she expected, not with Gilbert’s constant praises being whispered into her ear to distract her from the temporary pinch. Gilbert lasted longer than he’d anticipated, but still endeavored to serve her after he’d been sated. He knew he’d been doing alright when her fingers pressed into his back, bringing chills down his spine.

They came down from their highs with cooling skin and euphoric smiles. Ann curled into Gilbert’s chest and kissed the damp skin. 

“I love you,” she whispered. “And I’m not saying that because of the sex.” 

Gilbert chuckled, kissing her forehead. 

“I didn’t think so. Although if that’s what it takes for you to say it, then I’d be happy to oblige more often…” She swatted his arm and cuddled further into him. They were silent for a while, listening to the crickets outside, until Ann finally spoke up.

“Do you think Bertha would want to talk to me?” 

“If she knew how amazing you are, she’d want to. It doesn’t hurt to just reach out, see if she wants that relationship.” 

Ann sighed. 

“No matter what she decides, now I know she’s alive. My mother is _alive._ Thank you, Gilbert. I can’t tell you what this means to me.” A glint lit her eyes. “But maybe later, I can show you.” 

Gilbert hummed. 

“Now there’s an expert on gratitude.”

*

“There’s my academic champion,” Ann said as Gilbert collapsed into the passenger seat of the Kingsport bus. “How’d it go?” 

Gilbert only groaned. 

“You know, some son of a bitch sat down and wrote that test, knowing damn well it would nearly kill every student that took it,”  he moaned. “Eight hours of physics, biology, and math. I love them in moderation, but eight hours is _too much._ ” 

Ann reached a hand over and ran her nails over his scalp. They’d woken up at the ass crack of dawn to get themselves to Kingsport on time. Redmond was proctoring the MCATS, the single most important exam Gilbert had ever spent two years studying for, and he was going to do well no matter what it took. While he took the exam, Ann had met with some of her faculty advisors, hoping they could do their jobs and give her a little guidance on how to start planning for grad school. 

“My poor mush-brained boyfriend. The worst is over. You can sleep on the way home.” This elicited a happy sigh from Gilbert, who burrowed his head onto her shoulder and curled into her side.

“Oh yeah, how did it go talking with Professor Clarence?” he murmured, watching as the seat in front of him vibrated with rumbling of the bus. Ann ran her hand up and down his arm.

“Still right where we started. I don’t know what the hell I want to do.” Gilbert lifted his head from her shoulder and furrowed his brows. “Oh it’s alright, Gil. We’ll worry about it later. For now, get some rest. I’ll make sure we don’t miss our stop.” 

Gilbert slept all the way home, and Ann expected that he would sleep the night away too. He’d been beside himself with worry in the days leading up to the exam. As soon as the ferry dropped them off in Charlottetown, Gilbert curled into the seat of Ann’s car and let her humming lull him back. Before he could fall under again, though, he said, “Stay the night? Bash and Mary are still in Newfoundland.” 

“Stay the night or _stay the night,_ Mr. Blythe?” Ann asked with a smirk. Gilbert gave a sleepy chuckle. 

“I don’t care. If you want to, we can.” Ann caressed the side of his head for the millionth time, a gesture he never tired of. 

“That’s alright. You’re tired enough as it is. We’ll just stop at Green Gables so I can grab my overnight bag and let my parents know.” She turned down the Avenue and threw a tender look his way. “Can I have a raincheck on the sex?” 

“As many as you’d like,” he smiled. Then he was out. 

By the time they pulled into the Blythe-LaCroix household, the sun was beginning to lean west bound. Gilbert’s house was much like hers - it did well in silence. Ann and Gilbert crept up to his room where she dropped her bag at the foot of his bed, and the two of them collapsed on the comfy mattress. 

They lay together - Ann writing in her journal, Gilbert breathing slowly into her neck as he slept. 

_August 2nd, 2019_

_Gil took his MCATS today. I’m kinda glad it’s all over - for now, at least. He was driving himself crazy, and in turn, driving me crazy right along with him. At least we can spend these last days together before the semester starts without worrying about the future._

_Ugh, that’s a big fat lie. With Diana at U of T and Gilbert due to be accepted there any day now, I can’t help but feel compelled to apply there too. But for what? This whole time at college I’ve been studying English, and I adore it, truly. The English language and I have a special bond that not a lot of people have. Maybe I could just take the easy way out and get my graduate degree in English. But then what do I do? Where do I go? Really wish I could just...see things from another set of eyes, you know?_

Ann suddenly snapped up from her writing and looked at the incense that she had packed in her bag. She didn’t know why she packed it at the time, knowing that Gilbert would likely hate the smell, but she’d still brought it with her. 

_I’m going to light that incense I won in Carmody. Here’s to hoping that lady wasn’t just trying to sound mystical when she said it would show me a new perspective. Don’t tell Gilbert, he’ll laugh at me._

_Anyways, we’ll see if I’m any wiser when I wake up. Bye for now._

_-Ann._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next: Anne Shirley-Cuthbert waking up in the modern world! 
> 
> Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed, lemme know! I'm on tumblr too, if you wanna chat! ~@Royalcordelia


	4. Cracked Amber

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anne Shirley-Cuthbert finds herself in bed with a familiar face in an unfamiliar world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're back to regularly scheduled updates with regularly sized chapters! I've made the decision to just post when I've got a decent length, so chapter quantity is going to change, but I'll still be following the same outline! Please forgive errors, I'm a mess!
> 
> Also, thank you for the kudos and reviews! You all are wonderful and I appreciate the love for this, admittedly strange, story!

The first thing Anne saw when she woke up was the morning light through the curtains, turning the walls to lace. Her bones felt like kneaded clay molding into the soft cushions of her mattress. As she stirred awake, she became aware of the warmth that surrounded her, and nuzzled her head further into her soft pillow. She might’ve fallen back asleep, but something above her moved. 

Anne froze. There was a _person_ holding her. She was laying on her stomach, and the person seemed to be nearly sprawled on top of her. 

All thoughts of sleep left Anne as her eyes shot open. The person, realizing she was awake, nuzzled her back with their nose and brushed some hair away from her neck. Anne felt a pair of soft lips barely graze her skin, when she decided that enough was enough. 

With a yelp, she swung an arm around at the head pressed into her neck and leapt out of the bed. She hit the floor with a hard _thunk_ that interrupted the peaceful quiet of the morning. Her only thought was to get out of there as fast as she could, but she froze in the middle of the room. 

 _Where_ was she? It seemed like a bedroom, with a desk and a dresser, but the furniture seemed out of some sort of fever dream. There was a long mirror propped up in the corner of the room, causing Anne to start when she got a good look at herself. She was barely wearing anything at all, some flimsy corset with thread for straps and very tight, very _short_ trousers. Anxiety crept up her throat as she wrapped her arms around her chest. 

“Ann?” a voice called out, stunned and somewhat concerned.

Glancing behind her shoulder, she found a frazzled young man with feathers for hair sitting on the bed. For half a second, she wondered if he wasn’t only slightly familiar. Just as quickly, though, she realized he wasn’t wearing any shirt, and she spun around. 

“Wait, who the  _hell_ are you?!” he called out, alarmed. Anne heard him get up from the bed and take a few steps closer to her. She turned around all the way this time and jabbed a finger in his direction. 

“You stay away from me,” she said dangerously. Her feet stumbled back a few steps until she bumped up against the man’s desk. “How do you know me?” 

“I just asked you who you are. You think I know you?” he asked incredulously. “Look, stop freaking out. I’m not going to hurt you.” Anne didn’t know what _freaking out_ meant, but she wasn’t going to let her guard down. 

“You just said my name,” she stated. The boy frowned. 

“You’re not Ann.” 

“ _Wha-_ Yes I am!” Her hand reached back behind her on the desk until it grabbed the first thing she could find. She swung it to protect her like it was some sort of knife, only to find it was some sort of...Heavens, what was she holding? Ignoring her own panic rising, she continued. “Who are _you,_ anyways? And where am I?”

“I’m Gilbert Blythe,” he stated slowly. “You’re kinda in my room.” 

Out of instinct, Anne jabbed the object in her hand toward him.

“You definitely are not Gilbert Blythe.” 

“Jesus, put the pen down! I said I wasn’t going to hurt you!” 

Anne lowered the quill - pen? - until it dropped on the floor. Her free hands immediately sought her chest as she attempted to cover herself. Pretend-Gilbert looked at her as if he were looking at a wounded doe and grabbed something off of the end of his bed. With a resigned sigh, he held it out to her. 

“What’s this?” she asked carefully. 

“My hoodie. You can cover yourself with it.” 

“What on earth is a hoodie?” 

This stunned the man, and he stared at her with a tightly drawn frown. 

“It’s a jacket...A coat?” he explained with forced words. Anne held the oddly soft, forest green fabric out until she found what she hoped were sleeve holes. She slid her arms into the sleeves and immediately felt safer. Her entire front was still exposed, though, and she had no idea about how to go about fastening it. Instead, she tugged the two open ends of the  “hoodie” and untucked them underneath her arms. The man sighed in relief and gestured for her to sit down. “How about we try this again?”  

“I want to go home,” Anne said softly, settling into an oddly plush chair. Was it on wheels?

“I know. I’m just trying to figure out exactly what’s going on here. That way I can get you home. Do you remember how you got here?” 

Anne shook her head. 

“Okay then, what do you remember?” 

Anne closed her eyes tightly until she felt the familiar Avonlea sun on her cheeks and could smell the long grass in the field beside her. Just the thought of it brought a tear to her eye. Somehow it all seemed so...far away. Like she’d never be able to make it back home. 

“I was just leaving Aunt Josephine’s house after a wedding, and instead of waiting on the platform, I decided to take a walk. I hadn’t gotten very far down the railway tracks, so I turned around and waved at…” her voice trailed off. 

“Who?” 

An odd look crossed her face. 

“A friend.”  

 The man leaned back and nodded. 

“And then?” 

“And then I woke up with _you_ on top of me!” she spat. “All of Avonlea is going to think I’m a harlot!” Clearly, he did not understand the severity of the problem, because a surprised smile lit his face.

“Oh thank God,” Gilbert said. “You’re from Avonlea! That’s here!” 

Anne peered around the room and tightened the grasp on the jacket. The more she was here, the more she noticed all the strange things that made the house look very much...not like Avonlea. There were holes in the wall, electric lights, and a bookshelf lined with books that had outlandish spines. 

“This is _not_ Avonlea,” she murmured. Gilbert bit the inside of his cheek, realizing that arguing with her was going to get him nowhere. 

“Okay, so you don’t remember how you got here and you’re from Avonlea. Tell me what you do know. You said your name was...Ann?” 

“With an E,” she corrected. “Anne Shirley-Cuthbert. I’m Marilla Cuthbert’s girl. If you could please just direct me to Green Gables, I’ll happily be on my way.”

Gilbert was silent for a moment and then he scoffed and turned away toward the window.  

“Okay, who set you up to this?” 

“What could you possibly be talking abo-” 

“I’m talking about the fact that you wake up in _my_ bed, claiming to be _my_ girlfriend-” 

“Your what?!” 

“-And you don’t know what a hoodie is or probably what anything else in this room is, judging by the look you keep giving me! So, who the fuck put you up to this?” 

Anne flinched. 

“Do _not_ swear at me, Gilbert Blythe,” she chewed out viciously. Her Gilbert would never have taken that language with her. It was then that Anne realized this man before her not only shared the name of her friend, but also just about every one of his features. This Gilbert had the same hazel color to his eyes, the same dark curls, even the same structure to his features. Someone passing him on the road might mistake him for the real thing. But this man - this angry, swearing man - was not the kind soul who loved her. 

 Her tone didn’t scare him. He went to his bedside and pulled a frame from the table. Thrusting it in front of her face, he said, “Here. This is Ann Cuthbert. This is Marilla and Matthew’s daughter. This is the girl I _thought_ I fell asleep with. So you can quit this sick joke and just go back to wherever the hell it is you came from.” 

She might’ve admonished him for swearing at her again, but her eyes were glued to the woman in the frame. 

The portrait of Ann-with-no-E Cuthbert was the clearest, most stunning photograph Anne had ever seen in her life. Vivid with color, she could make out how beautifully auburn Ann’s hair was, and each individual freckle that still lined her face like stars. The Ann in the picture was wearing a loose mustard sweater, and smiled at the camera with a coy look in her eye. It was like looking in a mirror, as if God had accidentally made two Anne Shirleys. The differences were present enough for anyone to be able to distinguish between them, but few enough that Anne couldn’t help but stare. 

“She’s homely too,” she commented quietly. 

Gilbert tore away the picture. 

“Look, I’ve had enough of this. You can drop the act now and just go home.” 

The fuse in Anne finally sparked, and she took a few marching steps forward and found herself right in his face. He even smelled like Gilbert. 

“There is no _act,_ ” she stated very slowly, voice thick with tears. “What do I have to tell you for you to believe it? My entire life history?” 

“You’re crazy then-” But Anne didn’t let him finish. 

“My name is Anne Shirley and I was born in Bolingbroke, Nova Scotia in the year 1883 to Walter and Bertha Shirley. Schoolteachers.” Gilbert closed his mouth. “They died of fever when I was an infant and left me to the Thomas’, who left me to the Hammonds, who left me to the orphanage to _rot._ I was taken in by Matthew and Marilla Cuthbert, who really wanted an orphan boy to help with the farm, but through Providence, they kept me. We lived happily together until the Lord took Matthew, after which I moved to Redmond to earn my BA. Shall I continue?” 

“No.” It was the quietest she’d seen him since she woke up in his arms. “What...what year did you say you were born?” 

“1883. What kind of ridiculous question is that? Don’t you know it’s rude to-” The wild, scared look in Gilbert’s eyes stole the words out of her mouth. It spread to her and with a quiet realization she felt a bad feeling growing. “You look frightened.”

“What year do you think it is now?” 

“1904.” 

 Gilbert took his knuckles in his hand and rubbed them anxiously.

“So...the tank top...and the hoodie...and the picture. They all scared you because you didn’t know what they were?” 

“I know what a photograph is. _That_ is more than a photograph,” she scoffed. “What are you trying to say?” 

Gilbert took a deep breath and looked Anne directly in the eyes. 

“Anne, it’s 2019.” 

Alarmed, Anne couldn’t do anything but stare like a deer at a rifle. 

“And you had the _audacity_ to call _me_ crazy?!” she screeched. “Enough of this. Don’t follow me!” 

With that, Anne had torn the “hoodie” off of her, thrown it on the floor, and darted out of the room. Her mind was numb as she flew through the house, bare feet padding down the steps to what she assumed was the front door. Gilbert followed close behind her, calling her name, but the roaring in her ears tuned him out. With the last ounce of her sanity and strength, Anne swung the front door open and tumbled off the porch and onto…

Everything went blank. She couldn’t take it in all at once. Her mind turned to fire, blank and overloaded all at once.

The streets were as gray as storm clouds, bright yellow lines dashing down the center. Beneath her toes, a rough surface burned her skin, searing hot from the summer sun. None of the houses looked real, made of foreign materials and decorated in strange fashions. Anne’s eyes were fixed on a ginormous metal contraption stationed at the edge of the street. She crept forward, as if waiting for something to jump out of it, moving around the side and onto the street.

Just then, one flew by, a thundering honk following it as it went. Anne stumbled back wide-eyed and frozen. 

“Anne. Jesus fucking- _Anne_ , get back here!” Gilbert yanked her back by her arm until she fell into the grass, disoriented. When he reached for her again, she jerked herself away. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to grab you like that, but you can’t just run out in front of moving cars! You’ll get yourself killed!” 

“Is that what that was? A car?” she whispered shakily. Gilbert sighed, holding himself up at his knees. 

“You can really stop the act now. You fooled me fair and square.”  

“I told you it’s not an act,” Anne snapped. “Would you please just, _gesture_ in the vague direction of Avonlea? I’ll get myself home and leave you here with your...2019 horror town.” 

“You want to go home to Avonlea?” Gilbert asked sarcastically. Then, he swung his arms wide open and swept them around him. “Welcome home, Miss Shirley.” 

Something in Anne convinced her to look up and take a closer look around her. Somehow, the surroundings were familiar, yet completely and entirely foreign. She’d never seen this street before, but she still had a feeling about the different homes lining the street. 

“Is that...the Pye house?” she asked. 

“How did you know?” Gilbert said, flatly. 

“It has the most groomed lawn on the block. Plus the smell of entitlement overpowers those marigolds.” 

Gilbert guffawed, a stressed, odd sound, but still laughter. He looked at her funny, like he was seeing a ghost, but it was a ghost of someone he cared about. She could probably guess who she reminded him of. 

“Do you believe in cosmic misunderstandings?” she asked suddenly, mind reeling for some sort of solution. 

“Do you?” he side-stepped. Anne rolled her eyes, pulling herself back onto her feet. Gilbert had the same house number as hers did, she noticed. 

“I don’t know,” she admitted. 

Gilbert stared at her like he expected an explanation, but none came. His face fell into his hands and he rubbed his cheeks with a sigh. 

“Look, I’ll call Ann and see if she’s...waiting somewhere to jump out and yell ‘Prank’d’ or if she just…” he trailed off, not sure what other explanation there could be. The expression on Anne’s face told him that she had _no_ idea what he was rambling about anyways, so he pulled his phone from his pocket and tapped on the screen. Anne watched curiously, until suddenly, a loud jingling bell sound erupted from her pocket. 

“No way…” Gilbert said. The hope in his eyes was dimming further and further away, but Anne was too busy pulling an object out of her pocket. Her eyes were met with a glaring light as words lit up across its surface. 

“It says your name,” she stated evenly, as if he wasn’t already aware. 

“Aren’t you going to answer it?”  The obnoxious ringing continued.

“What do you mean answer it?” 

Gilbert’s hands clenched into fists but he swallowed back his frustration. 

“You just...tap the green button with your finger and hold it up to your ear.” 

She followed his instructions with shaky hands. Gilbert held his own rectangle up to his ear and whispered, “I think I’m starting to believe in cosmic misunderstandings.” Anne dropped the device as his voice rang out through it, tumbling away on the grass. 

With a half exhausted, half crazed sigh, he picked it up and held it out for her to examine. 

“This is a phone. A cell phone. A telephone. You dial a number on it and it calls the person you want to talk to.” She opened her mouth to add her two cents, but Gilbert held up his hand. “I realize that in the 19th century, phones looked a bit different and worked using operators, but this is what we have now. Ann sometimes falls asleep with hers in her pocket, so…” 

“So?” Anne asked, crossing her arms.

“So I think that somehow my Ann is in your Avonlea and you’re here, in her spot.” 

“Tha- that’s preposterous!”

“Of course it is! You were thinking it too! Can you think of any other explanation?”

He was right. In all of her excellent imagining skills, she couldn’t fathom another reason that she’d landed in this strange world.  Somehow her heart keened to this place, Avonlea 115 years in the future, as if it knew it like an old, long forgotten memory. It recognized Gilbert Blythe as kindred, even if his face was different and his home was in a different spot. Somehow, in the tiniest, strangest way, it made sense. 

“Your Ann was born to Walter and Bertha Shirley?” she asked slowly. 

“Well, we don’t know about her father, but Bertha is her mother.” 

“And you mentioned she’s living with Marilla Cuthbert?” 

“That’s correct.”

For a moment, Anne wondered if she should ask about the fact that she’d woken up in his bed. He mentioned that Ann was his _girlfriend._ Did that mean they were...courting? Married? Anne looked down at her hand and though she had the other Ann’s clothing on, and apparently her telephone, she had no ring. So then what was she doing in _bed_ with - 

Actually, she didn’t want to know. There were different things that were more important, that wouldn’t send her heart into frazzled vexation. 

“Is she friends with a girl named Diana Barry? Or Cole MacKenzie?” 

Gilbert’s shoulders slumped, as if this question was both relieving and troubling at the same time.

“Diana and Cole both live with Aunt Jo during the summer.” His eyes widened. “You said you were coming back from Aunt Josephine’s house when you were on that train platform. You have an Aunt Josephine too!” 

She couldn’t tear her mind from the romantic aspect of Ann’s life and finally gave in to the temptation to ask what she’d been wondering. 

“What about Royal Gardner?” 

“Oh, Roy? Cole’s boyfriend?” 

Nose wrinkling, Anne frowned. Boyfriend. Girlfriend. What did it all mean? Maybe Cole had taken a liking to the romantic, melancholy Royal Gardner. Still, Ann had known every single one of the important people that mattered to her. 

“Gilbert?” Anne asked meekly. He lifted a brow. “Can you take me to Green Gables?” 

“Green Gables?” 

“It's the house where Marilla Cuthbert lives! It's called Green Gables,” Anne gaped. 

“I mean, the roof is green if that’s what you’re getting at. But the house itself doesn’t really have a name. It’s on the Avenue, oldest road in Avonlea.” 

Eyes misting over, Anne decided this would be the true test. Even if her home didn't have the same name, if the Avenue was lined with her white, lacy blossoms, then she’d really believe that she had switched lives with herself. If there was no trace, she’d just have to search for a different solution. 

“Then take me to the Avenue. Take me to the Cuthbert house.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoyed, lemme know! Also, if you want to talk awae or aogg, I'm on tumblr ~ @royalcordelia ♥


	5. Any Way the Wind Blows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ann Cuthbert says hello to 1904 and a familiar, friendly face! (And one not so friendly!)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you to everyone who has been giving kudos and writing comments! I read each other and smile like a goose!! you all are wonderful, so I hope you enjoy this chapter!

The first thing Ann felt when she opened her eyes was all the air being knocked out of her lungs like a punctured balloon. 

She straightened against the yelling of her aching muscles and her incredulous gaze fell on the verdant scape before her. The view was familiar enough with its abundance of wildflowers and vast rolling hills, but she’d never been here before. She blinked several times in an attempt to clear her hazy mind, but the sight before her didn’t change. Rubbing at her abdomen to wipe her sweating palms, her fingers found a long, green dress sewn of coarse fabric. 

She froze. When the _hell_ had she gotten here, in these historical clothes, standing near this...railway? 

Something in her hand dropped, and she knelt to pick it up. Smearing away the dirt on the surface, Ann found it was a bronze pocket watch, certainly one of the oldest she’d ever seen. Even with its wear and age, it would be the envy of any antique broker. On the shiny surface, she could almost make out the initials _J.B._

Rising again to her feet, Ann leveled her head and tried her best to find her bearings. 

The last thing she remembered was coming home to Gilbert’s house, changing into her comfy clothes, and falling asleep in his arms. Now it was - Ann popped open the watch - almost nine A.M and Gilbert was nowhere to be seen. Neither was the rest of Avonlea. 

In the distance, a train’s whistle shattered the silence, jolting Ann toward the direction of what looked to be a nearby station. 

“Hey, Carrots!” a voice called a man hopping off the platform. Over the wind and howling whistle, Ann could barely make out the owner of the voice. Her only clue was the strapping young lad barreling down the tracks, hat clutched in his hands. Heaving a sigh of relief, Ann felt her fear lift from her chest. 

She’d recognize him anywhere.

“Gilbert? Gilbert! Oh, thank god!” Stumbling over her new heavy skirts, Ann tore off in his direction as fast as he could. Gilbert was here! He could explain how they’d ended up in this odd place, in odd clothes! 

Then, he was close enough for her to see him. Ann’s heart dropped into the pit of her stomach. Her feet slowed to a halt, a deep frown turning her face to cement. _He_ hadn’t seen _her,_ though.

“Have you been daydreaming again? The train’s about to…” His voice trailed off and an odd expression crossed his face. “That is...I’m sorry...I thought-” 

He very _nearly_ was Gilbert Blythe, eyes full of aspirations and dreams, head full of brown curls. The man before her carried himself just as hers did, with confidence softened by reverence for the lovely world he lived in. He was dressed in an Edwardian suit of a sandy, brown color and had the tan skin of a man who’d spent many days tending to a field. 

“My sincerest apologies, miss,” he said, shaken. “I was watching a friend of mine, and I _swore_ I didn’t take my eyes off of her. She was standing, well, right where you were.” His polite eyes lost even more of their strength. “She was also wearing that exact dress...and - and hairstyle!” 

Ann’s face blanched. Her hand lifted to the back of her head, where she found a wild halo of hair pinned like a crown. She’d seen enough historical dramas to recognize a Gibson hairstyle without looking in a mirror, but never thought it’d feel so _big_ \- like wearing a cat on her head.

The man shuffled awkwardly, like he was waiting for her to say something. An urge to suddenly defend herself rose up within her, but it left as quick as it came as she realized there was nothing she could say to plead her case. She had, after all, woken up in a place that _wasn’t_ Avonlea, dressed like she was the protagonist in a Louisa May Allcott novel.

“How peculiar,” Ann said, cringing at her own attempt to mimic his speech mannerisms. “You called my name and I thought you were, uh-  addressing me.” 

The man gave a forced laugh in a poor attempt to humor her. 

“Oh, I was calling the young woman I’m escorting, Anne.” 

“That’s my name,” Ann replied, failing at maintaining her conversational tone. 

“No it isn’t,” he countered quickly. When her brows shot up, he stuttered, clutching his hands into fists at his sides. “That’s - that’s not what I meant! Clearly, you are aware of your own name. I just noticed the circumstances of this are…” 

 _Fucked up?_ Ann’s mind supplied. She had a feeling if she voiced that one aloud, the poor boy would faint. 

“Strange?” she offered instead.

“Yes! Seeing as you are wearing _Anne’s_ dress, fashioned in her hairstyle, with her exact auburn hair and _all_ of her freckles in the exact same places. And well, your name is…” 

“Ann. With no E,” she supplied again, throwing him a life preserver when he stuttered. His lip curled like he smelled something sour, but he didn’t say anything until he glanced down at what she was holding in her hand.

“That’s my watch,” he murmured, frightened. Then he looked her square in the eye, angry and confused. “That’s my watch!” 

Ann thrust it into his hand and took a step back. 

“Then take it! I don’t know how I ended up with it to begin with. Look, I’ll just go and pretend this messed up thing never happened.” 

Just like that, Ann spun on her heel and stomped in the opposite direction - away from the man and away from the train station. She hadn’t the slightest clue where she was walking, but it didn’t matter. She wouldn’t subject herself to whatever the stars were trying to meddle her into. 

Something in her gave her pause - something in the way the man spoke and regarded this _Anne_. Twirling back around to face him, she discovered he was still anchored to the ground, staring at her in an odd mix of awe and fear. 

She was just as afraid. Her heart screamed at her and as much as Ann didn’t want to listen, she had to see if all of her flurrying thoughts amounted to anything.

“I’m a girl of intuition, so just humor me while I throw into the left field,” Ann stated carefully. The exact meaning was lost on him, but he nodded. “Your name is Gilbert Blythe. Your father was John Blythe, like the initials your watch. Your birthday is November 16th. You want to be a doctor because you’re compassionate and incredibly smart. You’ve got a star-shaped birthmark on the small of your back. And one time, you called a girl carrots with near catastrophic consequences.” 

He took a step back, breath coming in shallow bursts. Ann nodded, mind growing more and more numb with every passing second. 

“Right, that’s what I thought. Okay, I’m leaving. Bye.” 

His footsteps began to follow behind her before she could get very far, causing her to stumble along faster. For a “girl of intuition” she sure had a way of ignoring the yelling behind her ears to just _turn around_.

Gilbert was quicker to follow his.

“ _Your_ name is Anne Shirley Cuthbert!” he called out, turning her own tactics against her. “You were born March 5th, which always is a beautiful sunny day, no matter how much the winter wind blows. You’ve never seen a sunset that hasn’t moved you, and you admire the night sky because its face matches yours.” 

Against her own will, the muscles in her legs began to lose their strength. 

“You were born to write poetry, to teach, to invite others to see the world differently. You’re attracted to both men and women. You want to find a lifemate that’s your match in intellect and happiness, and I’ve always admired that about you. You can’t stand confinement, but can sit in the solitude of your mind for..for days!” 

Ann spun around and glared at the man. If he chipped away at her any further, there’d be no defense left. Gilbert did not slow down, eyes wild with discovery. He had cracked his end of the code, and in spite of herself, Ann let him prove her hypothesis. 

“Matthew and Marilla wanted a boy, but they got _you._ ” He closed the distance between them until he could see every freckle on her nose and every drop filling her eyes. “And they started a long list of people in Avonlea who love you. _You’re_ Anne!” 

His eyes turned into molten warmth, the same way Gil’s did when he was about to lean in for a kiss. But this man didn’t lean in. He kept his distance like a dog tugging at the restraints of his leash, but bit back his curiosity to keep from overwhelming her. 

Finally, she had no choice but to secede. 

“I’m _a_ Ann. But I’m not your Anne,” she said after the silence had turned deafening. 

“I think that’s exactly it, though. Not a single thing I said was incorrect, was it?” 

“You did leave out one detail,” Ann said, placing her hands straight on her hips. She fought to keep her features stable, but her legs shook under the weight of the question she needed to ask next. “What year was I born?” 

Gilbert answered without hesitation. 

“1883.” 

“That’s where you’re wrong.” 

Calculations flashed over his eyes before she could muster up the courage to tell him what she _really_ needed to say. 

“1882, then? 1884? I always thought it was-” 

“1998.” 

Gilbert turned to stone as her words settled over him. 

“Pardon?” 

Like a firework, Ann felt the growing spark in her crackle and burn until she all but burst into a thousand colors.

“I was born in the year nineteen hundred and ninety-eight. I’m a fucking 90’s kid! I grew up covered in Lisa Frank stickers and about a thousand pastel butterfly hair clips. I had _five_ Tomagochi’s I kept alive everyday for three years. Marilla made me take Flintstones vitamins every day, so as payback I would sneak bubble gum into her cart when we went shopping and chew it all at once! And you have _no_ idea what the fuck I’m talking about because I’m _literally_ \- what, 100 years older than you?” 

“138 years, actually,” he murmured, eyes blank. 

“ _God,_ so I’m nearly 150 years older than you and somehow, I’m exactly the same as your girlfriend.” 

“Anne and I aren’t courting!” he spat reflexively, as if he had one cord in his entire being and she’d just plucked it with all her might. Then, with a little more decorum, “She’s just a friend.” 

Ann’s mouth gaped. Whatever sharp words she was about to say got caught in her throat. 

It only took one look to know that the man had been heartbroken for a long, long time. Judging from the bitterness that ran inches deep in him and the dark circles that turned his eyes to daggers, Ann could tell some of the rejection was fresh. If this Gilbert loved his Anne even the slightest amount that her boyfriend loved her, the denial would’ve cut deep. 

He must’ve seen the pity that was forming in her eyes, because before she could think about offering encouragement, he paced a few steps away. 

“Are we simply going to turn a blind eye to the fact that you’re from the next _century_ , or would you like to discuss more trivial matters? I hear there’s a missing cow in Carmody! They think it ambled all the way to Avonlea and Mr. Harrison won’t give it back! 

Ann buried her face in her hands and let out a frustrated groan.

“You really are Gilbert Blythe,” she murmured. “I can’t even remember how I got here.”

Gilbert crossed his arms. His eyes squinted the same way he would as if he were looking at something under a microscope. Every contour of her face was fixed under his watchful eye, but the longer he looked, the more mysterious she became. 

“What _do_ you remember?”  

“I was in bed with…” Gilbert’s eyebrows quirked. Ann tredded right along like she hadn’t been about to admit she was laying in bed with her boyfriend to a man who was likely saving himself for marriage. “I was in bed with a book. I had just lit some incense and-” 

Ann froze. She didn’t remember coming here, but she remembered the very important words the Carmody woman with the mystic aura had said - _Light this incense whenever you need to see from a new perspective. Use it wisely._  

Son    of a    _bitch_. 

Well, might as well get it over with.

“Tell me, Gilbert, do you believe in cosmic misunderstandings?” 

An odd look flickered across his face as if she were wearing a toad around her neck like a necklace. 

“Have...have you asked me that before?” 

“You mean in the five minutes we’ve known each other? No. I don’t think so,” Ann replied sarcastically. Then, with a groan she admitted what she hoped was just a silly figment of her imagination. “Some magic lady from Carmody gave me incense as a prize and I lit it before I fell asleep. Now I’m here.” 

Gilbert’s expression was blank. 

“That’s the only explanation I have, okay!?” she snapped. 

The poor man was saved from saying anything as the train left the station and rushed past them with a few strong blares of its whistle. Bursts of wind followed the train cars as they blurred by, nearly knocking a very unsteady Ann over. After the rattling cars had passed, two frightened faces were left looking at each other. Silence surrounded them like freshly fallen snow, and any movement could crush the little order that remained. 

“I don’t know how to get home,” Ann admitted quietly. “Gilbert, I have no idea what I’m going to do.” 

For a man who usually could come up with some sort of solution to just about any problem, Gilbert Blythe was stumped. He scratched his fingers through his disheveled curls, then again, and again, each time a bit more agitated. 

Ann’s own mind ran around in circles, delving into every possible solution she could think of. The more her own searching came up short, the more her thoughts became clogged with question after question. Where would she get clothes? How could she go about searching for _magic_ in a time where divine occurrences could mark you possessed by evil? She didn’t have any of her medications with her - her birth control, her anxiety pills. Could she even get withdrawal symptoms if she wouldn’t get prescribed for another hundred years? 

It was all too much for her, much less for someone else to take on with her.

“Look, I’m not your problem, Gil. You can just leave me here and I’ll figure something out.” 

She might as well have slapped him, shock marking her face after she watched the hurt crash on him. 

“Are you crazy?!” he chastised. “You may not be _exactly_ the Anne Shirley I know, but I swore I’d protect her no matter what. I’m not going to leave you here on the side of the railway tracks like an abandoned cat and hope that everything turns out okay.” 

Her doubt had cut him deep - this man that she’d barely known. But how could she blame him? She felt as if she’d known him too. Beyond both their understandings, he trusted her, _believed_ her, and somehow, she returned it to him. It left her heart dizzy and confused.

Ann sniffled, and a tear she didn’t realize had formed trickled down the side of her cheek. 

She wanted _her_ Gilbert. The person who knew her heart as well as his own. The person who knew exactly how to hold her and what to say. She wanted her mother, and Matthew, and Diana, and Cole. She wanted to be able to give Aunt Jo a call and say, “You won’t _believe_ where I’ve been!” 

But all those people weren’t here - at least, not in the way she knew them. Being with this Gilbert wouldn’t be the same, but if she couldn’t trust him, who could she trust? Who else could she turn to?

“Okay,” she murmured. 

“Alright?” Gilbert confirmed, and she nodded. Taking a chance, he reached out his hand for her to accept. She did, and another tear dripping out when the sturdiness of his hands was so familiar. He squeezed it gently, offering a nervous smile. 

“I don’t entirely understand this, but I believe we’ll find a way to get you home. Maybe the solution is simply to wait. Patience always has a way of rewarding a person.” 

A stressed laugh burst from Ann. 

“I barely know anything about the 20th century! I doubt I’ll last a day. You won’t catch me _dead_ in a corset, Gilbert Blythe.” 

Gilbert took her other hand and held them with steadfastness. 

“If you’re anything like my Anne - and I’m inclined to believe you’re exactly alike - then I think you’ll find life in this Avonlea much more tolerable than you expect. As for corsets, you’re already wearing one. With everything else, we’ll help you.” 

“We?”

“Well, we have already missed our train, but I believe I am overdue getting you home to see Marilla Cuthbert.” His nose wrinkled. “But first things first. We have to adjust the way you speak. Your 21th century accent will make you stick out like a sore thumb. Thankfully you’re already dressed the part.” 

She felt it too, with the ribbons of her corset tied as tight as they would go. The whole situation had her breathless to begin with, with no help from the cage constricting her lungs and holding her in. With a deep breath, Ann straightened her back and lifted her chin up. 

“I’ve read enough historical romance novels to play the part.  I think you’ll find I’m quite the actress.” 

“Just be yourself,” Gilbert said, already uncomfortable at how much like his Anne she sounded. “Also, absolutely no swearing. I mean it! You’ll bring Mrs. Lynde to her grave.” 

“I doubt it would be my _swearing_ that would shock her, although it wouldn’t be the first time I’d given her conniptions. Not to worry, though, Mr. Blythe. From this moment on, I’ll be a perfect angel.”  

Gilbert snorted. 

“Well, perhaps not _too_ perfect. No one will believe you’re Anne.” 

*

1904 was exactly how Ann pictured it. Somehow it was so much more _verdant_ than 2019 _,_ the essence of the island overflowing into the fields where the modern world hadn’t paved over the wildflowers quite yet. The air was lighter, unique with the trace puffs of tobacco smoke lilting through the air, but sweetened by the nearby blossoms. On the platform, people dressed just like Ann and Gilbert bustled around, tugging old leather suitcases behind them and hurrying onto their whistling train. 

Ann felt her senses being overwhelmed as she noticed more and more things that proved how far she was from home. The old style of newspapers, the sea of beautiful hats atop dozens of heads, the long beards sported by older men. Though her and Gilbert were standing still, waiting for a family to pass in front of them, Ann’s vision swayed. She anchored herself onto Gilbert by resting her arm in his and clutched his jacket. 

“Are you alright?” he murmured near her ear. She nodded, which only made her dizziness worse. 

“Yes. Is this Charlottetown?” Ann asked quietly. 

“The very border of it. The train ride to Avonlea is about forty-five minutes, but it won’t arrive for another hour. Perhaps it’s for the best. You’re rather pale, maybe we should sit.” 

“I recall saying I was fine,” Ann replied, falling flat of the stern tone she attempted. “It’s just…a lot.”

“I understand,” Gilbert said, though Ann doubted he really did. What would he do if he was in her shoes, whisked away to another time? She truthfully didn’t know, but doubted he could imagine easily.

Lost in her thoughts, she didn’t notice the keen eye Gilbert had fixed on her. 

“You’ll tell me if you begin to feel faint,” he instructed. Ann blinked up at him and smirked. 

“Sure thing, doc.” 

 

When the train finally came, Gilbert led the way, modeling for Ann how to hand her ticket to the conductor. It was her first interaction with a person who wasn’t Gilbert, and if the train worker noticed her forced smile or the way her fingers trembled as she handed him the ticket, he didn’t comment. 

Gilbert found them a seat in a quarter of the train car that was fairly empty of other passengers in hopes that maybe they could learn more about each other before making it back to Avonlea. Right before Ann could open her mouth to begin her flurry of questions, a voice across the car called, “Why, is that Gilbert Blythe and Anne Shirley?” 

Ann tensed the same moment Gilbert did, though the owner of the voice wasn’t one she recognized. Still, the nasal, arrogant tone gave her a sinking suspicion, which was only confirmed when Gilbert put on an artificial smile and said, “Josie, don’t tell me you missed the morning train too.” 

Josie Pye, true to her family’s reputation, took up much more space than her skinny frame would seem to allow. She gave an appraising look to Ann, who flinched when they met eyes, but if Josie had noticed anything strange, she didn’t say so. Her forehead had already taken lines from years of scowling, but her blue eyes distracted from any marks. She wore a lacy high necked blouse, a skirt of midnight purple, and had tied her golden curls in what Ann could only assume was the latest fashion. 

“Oh, after all the merriment at the wedding last night, I positively had to sleep past dawn. After all, a lady has to rest on Sunday before undertaking a busy week,” Josie replied, plopping down all her heavy skirts next to Ann. The billowing of her skirts released her strong perfume, and Ann wrinkled her nose. Josie smelled like an old woman.

Still, Ann nodded politely, silently wondering who in the world had gotten married, and if the other Anne had been there. 

“Say, Josie, do you notice anything different about Anne?” Gilbert said lightly.

The young lady turned to Ann with as much determination as a surgeon saving a life. Her eyes roved over every visible inch of the stiff redhead, but the search seemed to come up short. 

Suddenly, her eyes lit up as if she’d had a miraculous idea. She snatched Ann’s left hand and brought the fingers within view. Disappointed to find the fourth finger bare, Josie dropped Ann’s hand and turned back to Gilbert. 

“I thought for sure you had proposed to Anne when you followed her onto the veranda last night.” 

Gilbert’s cheeks turned pink, but he shook his head.

“Just as well. I find that once a person has received a rejection, especially one as bad as yours, it’s best to move on and move onto greener pastures.” This news drove shock right through Ann. Gilbert had already proposed to his Anne? She tried to meet his eye, but he refused to look anywhere but Josie’s smirking face. “What’s different about you, then? I swear everything is just as it was when we saw each other last night.” 

Aha! So Anne was at the wedding. 

The flushed boy across from her still seemed flustered by his own secret being revealed and by the fact that Josie hadn’t noticed a _single_ thing different about Ann. Lucky for him, Ann was a quick thinker, and she knew her own Josie well. 

“Well, with all the beautiful revelry last night, I hadn’t had an opportunity to tell you I’d taken your advice!” 

Josie Pye _always_ had advice. 

“Oh! You began to bleach out those poor freckles then?” Ann’s relief added another year onto her life. She nodded happily. Josie squinted her eyes to concentrate close to Ann’s face, then put on the biggest airs the train car would allow. “Look at that, why, you certainly have a much clearer complexion than before. How lovely!” 

Josie Pye _always_ thought she was an expert liar. It seemed some things never changed. 

“Well, while I’m glad to see that you’ve made efforts to improve your appearance, I do wish you had accepted Gilbert. Don’t you suppose you’ll be lonely now that Diana is married, you know, without someone of your own?” 

Before she could stop herself, Ann’s face swiveled over to Gilbert. _Diana_ was the one who had gotten married? But to whom? Certainly not a man. _Hopefully_ not a man. If her poor best friend had to stay closeted because it was the twentieth-century, Ann was going to take Diana back with her to 2019, whenever that was.

“On the contrary,” Ann retorted. “Diana and I are more kindred than ever.” 

Her assurance seemed to deeply disappoint Josie, who was likely hoping Ann cry _Oh, Josie, whatever will my fragile heart do now that I am friendless and condemned to spinsterhood!_ The best way to get rid of a Pye, after all, is to bore them with your own happiness.

“I ought to be finding my own seat. I wouldn’t want to impose on you both any further. Perhaps we’ll see each other soon?” 

“Doubtless! Enjoy the rest of your day of rest, Miss Pye.” 

Like a peacock who had spread her beautiful feathers, Josie hoisted her pointy chin and swept away with a graceful wave of her hand. Ann slumped against her seat and gave tossed Gilbert a glance that said _That was close!_

“You’re a natural!” he praised. 

“Maybe, but why didn’t she recognize me? Do I look that much like your Anne?” 

 Gilbert shrugged. 

“To be honest, yes, but your faces are different enough. You look similar enough to be, say, her _sister,_ but certainly not enough to pass as her.” 

“But Josie didn’t see any difference.” 

“I don’t know either, Ann,” he replied. “Maybe when we get back to Green Gables, we’ll see if anyone will be able to tell the difference there.” 

That was all they could do about that front for the time being, but there was one other thing Ann wanted to know about above all.

“Wait a second. You never told me _Diana_ got married!” Her sharp tone caught the gaze of the passengers across the aisle, causing Ann to lower to tone. “Is that why we were in Charlottetown?” 

Gilbert propped his head in his hand, elbow leaning against the train window. 

“Indeed. There’s a bridesmaid dress in your trunk to prove it. I imagined that maybe Diana was getting married at the same time...in your time. Anne and I were both at the wedding.” 

“Well, who was the bride?” Ann asked, crossing her arms. If it was someone she didn’t know, she was going to have to make introductions immediately. 

“Diana was the bride,” Gilbert replied as if  that were a stupid question. It seemed Ann’s sinking feeling was right and she loosened her tightly wound arms. 

“Alright then, the groom?” 

“Jerry.” 

“Jerry who?” 

“Jerry Baynard. Your old farmhand?” 

Ann glanced around before leaning closer to Gilbert.  

“Jeri Baynard is a woman.” 

“No, Jerry Baynard is a man. He and Anne have been like siblings ever since the Cuthberts took on the both of them. Your Jerry is a woman?” 

Ann nodded, eyes wide. 

“Diana has been dating Jeri for a long time now. Your Jerry is French, I presume?” she explained.

“Annoyingly so,” Gilbert retorted with an amused smile. “Anne once told me the way he and Diana met was because Jerry was flirting with her in french. But he protects and loves Anne as if she were his own sister, so I’ve always respected him. Besides, it’s nice to not be the only one that riles her up so.” 

“At least that’s...mostly the same as home,” Ann commented offhandedly. “Is there anything else I should know before we go back home?” 

Gilbert thought long and hard, trying to distinguish between what she already knew and what she mightn’t have experienced yet. Both of them didn’t even know where to begin, their own cultures making them a complete stranger to the other. Just when it looked like he might say that he hadn’t thought of a single thing, a realization darkened him. 

“There is one thing that you should know if you don’t already,” he muttered. 

“...What is it?” Ann answered in the same low volume. 

“Roy is going to be expecting you to write him.” 

Ann cocked her head, blinking in confusion. 

“Why?” 

“Because he proposed to Anne and he’s still expecting an answer.” He said it like it should be obvious. Ann sputtered back her own surprise. 

“Roy Gardner proposed to _me?_ W-well, _I_ can’t make a decision on that! He’s just going to have to wait a little longer.” 

From the bitter expression in Gilbert’s eyes, Ann got the impression that Roy wasn’t the only one who was waiting for Anne to make up her mind. 

“There’s still some time in the train ride I think. Why don’t you tell me a bit more about you. Like how you met Bash in this world?” 

Gilbert leaned his shoulder against the rumbling window and smiled as if the happy memory had already started to play in his mind. 

“I had just begun working on the biggest freightliner I’d ever seen in my life and was trying to fit in by belting ‘Haul Away Joe’…” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> that's a wrap for this week! want to chat about aogg more? I'm on tumblr ~ @royalcordelia
> 
> Up next: Everyone teaches Anne Shirley how to function in the modern world!


	6. Comfort In Faces I've Never Seen

**Chapter 6.**

Gilbert wasn’t sure what to think as he paced out in front of his room. Anne could probably hear from him from inside, his footsteps creaking his own old floorboards. It was beginning to eat away at his sanity - there were only so many times a man could walk back in forth in a straight line. Pausing for a second, he pressed his ear against the door and listened as hard as he could. He heard nothing.

“How’s it going in there, Anne?” he called. 

Behind the door, Anne shuffled around, the sound a little aimless.

“Just as well as it was ‘going’ when you asked that a minute ago,” came her frustrated reply. 

“Alright, I believe you.” He paused. “But just so you know, it doesn’t take ten minutes to put on a t-shirt and leggings.” 

“It does when you’ve never seen them before! These hardly classify as clothing!” 

Gilbert’s fuse was growing shorter. His hand shot out toward the door handle, but he caught himself before he could turn the knob. There was no way he was walking in on her while she was barely dressed. If this odd little partnership between them was going to work out, he needed to respect her boundaries, the one she’d set up for herself in her own time. Besides, the Anne on the other side of the door was  _ not  _ the Ann he had grown intimate with. What right did he have to enter?

“Just...just tell me what it is you’re struggling with. I understand women’s clothing more than you think,” he tried, trying to sound helpful. Anne grumbled from the room. He heard the rushed plop of clothes hitting the floor, as if she had thrown them down in a fit of frustration. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, okay? I’m your ally.” 

_ Your only ally _ , was the unspoken message.

She sighed, then said, “I’m struggling with the corset.” 

Even through the door, he could  _ hear _ the blush rising on her cheeks, but he couldn’t find it in him to be even a little bit embarrassed. He’d grown practically numb to the dullness of a bra over the last few months, enjoying its existence only when Ann intended him to. Gilbert leaned his head against the doorframe and sighed. 

“It’s called a bra. Hook together the thick strap around your waist, spin it, then pull the thin strap up over your shoulders.” 

“How  _ on earth _ would you -” she exclaimed, but stopped. “Thank heavens, I got it.”

He supposed the rest of the dressing was self-explanatory because a minute later, she was pulling open the door and peering up at Gilbert with self-conscious eyes. When she brushed aside a piece of her hair, his heart fell into the pit of his stomach. 

Somehow she really was Ann. From the way her voice carried from the back of her throat, to the small mannerisms she used to distract herself. Even though he hadn’t known this Anne for every long, he recognized the pieces of his love in her, as if their very essences were the same. Her frame fit perfectly into the clothes Ann had been wearing the day previous, but she had found the hoodie from before and pulled it over her arms. 

“I hope you don’t mind,” she said with a nervous shrug. “It barely feels like I’m wearing anything. I just needed...something to add some weight.” 

“Not at all, whatever you’re comfortable with.” 

“Oh, it’s certainly more comfortable,” she murmured, nustling the soft fabric against her face. “In a way, that is.” 

The frustration from before was gone, replaced with an odd sense of empathy for the girl who was trying her best. If he was agitated with her lack of understanding, he could only imagine how she felt. 

“There’s something else odd I noticed,” she continued. Gilbert prepared himself to explain whatever odd thing she’d seen in his room. The multitude of stickers that covered his guitar case with their indecipherable combinations of letters. The plastic skeleton he’d gotten from Bash for Christmas to help him learn the bones of the body.

Instead, she observed, “Why are you burning incense that doesn’t smell like anything? Is that some sort of tradition I’m not aware of?” 

Gilbert’s eyes knitted together. He hadn’t lit any - 

_ Oh. _

Suddenly, he was pushing past her and barreling into the room like a runaway storm. On his bedside table, he found a long, thin stick of incense trailing cobwebs of smoke into the air. Behind him, Anne waited in the doorway, watching intently as he held up the incense by its stand, then turned it for her to see. 

“Ann lit this last night before we went to sleep.” 

“It’s still burning,” she said quietly. 

“Yes, I can see that it’s still burning!” he snapped. She didn’t seem to notice the outburst, though. 

“No, Gilbert. It hasn’t even burned down the stick.” 

“Maybe it’s some fancy incense that last forever. Whatever, I’ll just put it out.” 

Gilbert licked his fingers then closed them over the smoking tip. Anne watched as he held them there for a moment, but the small flame burned against his skin with a stubbornness akin to the “Blythe Constitution.” He hissed sharply, ripping his fingers away and shaking them wildly. 

“Shit, that hurt,” he murmured. Annoyed, he grabbed his water bottle from his desk and poured some of the leftover contents into the incense. Still, the spark burned. 

“Here, let me,” Anne cut in. Perhaps putting out fires, even miniscule ones, could only be a task for a country born soul. Willing to try anything, Gilbert handed her the culprit of his aching finger. 

As soon as the smoke reached her nose, a bright light covered Anne’s sight like a wave of white water had crashed over her. It brought with it a force that knocked the incense from her hand and sent it rolling across the floor. Two strong hands grabbed her before she could follow, but her mind had already shifted out of her body.

_ She was walking along the White Way of Delights at home. She expected to feel immediate relief at being back in her own time, but she couldn’t feel anything at all. Her eyes were blurry and distorted, as if she were gazing upon the world through a looking glass. When her head leaned to the side and took in the white blossoms adorning the trees, she realized with a shock that she wasn’t in control of her own body.  _

_ “My own Avonlea is beautiful, but this is Eden reborn,” she heard herself say. Strange - it was her voice somehow. But her mouth wasn’t moving, at least she couldn’t feel it.  _

_ “Is 2019 terribly unattractive?”  _

_ Horror and confusion took over Anne. Her head turned to the person ambling beside her, a friendly face.  _

_ “Gilbert! Gilbert, it’s me!” she tried to say. Instead, her mouth moved of its own volition.  _

_ “Oh, 2019 has its perks, but ultimately, the best beauty is the stuff we haven’t...I dunno...tarnished with our modern grasps. See, this lane, with its dirt road and overflowing wildflowers, would’ve been a parking lot where I’m from.”  _

_ Gilbert chuckled. “I don’t know what a parking lot is, but it sounds incredibly unpleasant.”  _

Anne felt her body being shaken like a child with frightened parents. She gasped her own air, regained feelings in her own limbs, and latched onto the first thing her hands could reach - Gilbert’s shirt. He pulled her to his chest to set her upright, then gave her some space. 

“Are you alright!?” he blurted. Heart steadying to a calm rhythm, Anne nodded. 

“I saw her. I  _ was  _ her,” she sputtered.

“Who?” 

“Your Ann.” 

The color drained from Gilbert’s face. 

“Is- is she alright?” 

“I think so. She was walking with  _ my  _ Gilbert, as if nothing was wrong. I think they were headed back to Green Gables. It was like her and I were the same person, except I was in her head and she had complete control. I don’t even think she knew I was there.” 

Gilbert wide eyes fell on the incense he’d placed back beside the bed. It burned and burned and burned, but no ash fell. It had been smothered, doused, and rolled on the ground, and yet it burned as true as if Ann had just lit it. 

“All you did was breathe in that smoke, then it was like the life had been drained out of you. Scared the crap out of me.” He placed his hand on her wrist and gave it a squeeze. “The good news is we learned something.” 

“You think that incense has something to do with why I’m here?” 

Gilbert gave a regretful nod.

“Some really batshit crazy lady gave it to Ann and said that if she burned it, she’d gain a new perspective on things. Anne,  _ you’re  _ the new perspective. She’s living your life and you’re living hers.” 

All she could do was gape. Gilbert had to laugh, otherwise he might’ve cried. 

“Not so preposterous anymore, now is it?” 

*

It was only when Anne stood gaping at his Jeep that Gilbert realized he had been taking his life in the modern day completely for granted. Her jaw was dropped to the ground, her entire being frozen as she gawked at the vehicle as if it were a swamp creature chilling out at the head of his driveway. 

“Whenever you get a little freaked out at this futuristic stuff, just remember  that I’m your ally, okay?” Gilbert explained, coming down the porch stairs to stand beside her. “I wouldn’t make you do anything that I thought would put you in danger.” 

This eased the tension in her shoulders just enough to allow Anne to creep forward. 

“How does it operate?” she asked, touching the hot metal of the hood with gentle fingertips. She tugged her hand back, unprepared for the heat that had already accumulated in the late morning sun. 

“It operates on gasoline,” Gilbert said, opening the door for her. “Just take a seat and buckle yourself in.” Anne shot him a puzzled look. “Pull this strap here, and click it in the red thing on your left.” 

As Gilbert rounded the front of the car toward the driver’s side, he caught his mind reeling. In some ways, being with this Anne was like being with a toddler. On the other hand, Anne was likely just as smart as he was. Given the opportunity to have an intellectual conversation with her, he suspected that she’d mop the floor with him on all her favorite topics. Maybe it would work in their favor. Maybe this Anne was a fast learner too, just as his was. 

“You look pale,” Gil commented as he swung himself into his seat. “It’s a really short drive. Just about five miles up the road. Nothin’ to worry about.” 

“That’s a half hour drive,” Anne calculated, growing whiter. 

“Maybe in a horse and buggy, but not in this thing.” 

Anne shifted in her seat,  gripped onto its fabric sides, and fixed her gaze out of the buggy window. Her fingers tapped and foot bounced, the way Ann’s did whenever she was wandering in far off thoughts. 

“Alright, Anne-girl, what’s going through that head of yours. It’s more than just the Jeep.” 

The nickname startled them both, but she gave a nervous sigh.

“The last time I was introduced to Marilla Cuthbert, she very nearly decided to kick me out of the house. I was halfway to Kingsport when Matthew stopped me. I’m positive that she’s going to go through with it this time around. Presbyterian women don’t react well to witchcraft.” 

“I think Ma’s fresh out of witch pyres,” Gilbert said flatly. “I’ll be there as your witness, we’ll tell her everything. Coming up with a game plan is going to be a lot easier if we can get your parents in on the plan.” 

Anne’s brows knit together. Parents? Had this Marilla gotten married? 

When she didn’t answer, Gilbert shoved the key into the ignition and the Jeep roared to life with its usual hiccuping revving. Anne’s hand shot out to grab Gilbert’s wrist. 

“You’re certain this machine is safe?” 

“It’s built to be. Besides, I’m the safest driver I know. We’re lucky Ann’s not here, she drives like a maniac.” He opened his hand, inviting her to latch onto his fingers. Too out of her depth to be picky, she welcomed the support and gave a nervous chuckle as the vehicle began to roll forward. He added more and more gas until they were soaring down the road. Anne pressed her face to the window, laughing more and more as the neighbors’ houses blurred into streaks of color. The glass pane suddenly slid down, exploding a wild burst of air into her loose hair. 

“I can roll the windows back up if it gets too windy,” Gilbert called over the roar of the air sweeping through the car. 

“No! My goodness, no! This is...this is extraordinary! Can I stick my hands out?” 

Gilbert nodded, chuckling as she threw her arms out into the fleeting world. The flow of the breeze lifted her arms up and down, and she wrote words into the air with fluid movements. When her excitement had died down, they had nearly arrived at the Cuthbert house. Anne leaned her face against the open window and closed her eyes to let the warm air bathe her cheeks. Gilbert was hesitant to break her content silence - she hadn’t had any peace since she woke up in his bed - but there was something he wanted to know. 

“You mentioned your Gilbert earlier,” he said lightly. Anne’s gray eyes opened slowly, though her face wasn’t as lovestruck as he expected it might be. She let a hand fall out of the window and caught lingering dreams, seen only in her eye. 

“I did,” she replied, just as lightly. 

“What’s he like?” 

Anne hummed a thoughtful sound. 

“He’s much like you, I imagine. I noticed the medical supplies in your room. He’s training to be a doctor, too. It’s hard to describe Gil. He’s changed so much over the years, but somehow he’s still the same boy that I hit over the head.” 

“You  _ hit him? _ ” 

“He called me Carrots! For an eleven-year-old girl, the insult wounded my heart excruciatingly. I likely could have ignored him for years, but my heart softened to him when his father became ill. After he was orphaned like me, we became the kindred spirits we were destined to be.” She looked over at him, and the tender expression on his face. “I’m sorry, this must be uncomfortable to talk about.”  

But Gilbert didn’t think so at all. He wanted to know everything he could about this boy that shared his looks, his soul. Oh, what he’d give to speak with him, gain a new perspective for himself. Then remembering how far Anne had traveled, he bit his tongue. Perhaps he should be careful what he wished for. 

“How long have the two of you been...I suppose you’d call it, what, courting?” 

Anne’s shoulders tensed, and she tugged on the seatbelt that had ridden up to her throat. 

“Gilbert and I aren’t courting. I think he’d like to be but…” She glanced up with sharp eyes, as if annoyed that his presence had made her open up. “Anyway, we’re not courting.” 

It was as if someone had driven a spike through his gut. Gilbert’s nerves suddenly began to ache with a misery that wasn’t his own. Sorrow built up in his chest that was entirely foreign, but he felt as if he’d been carrying it around for a decade. It swelled against his ribs and stole his breath, easing for just a moment when his eyes fell on the redhead in his seat. Somehow she’d never looked more  _ beautiful _ than in that moment. How he longed, and longed, and longed - 

As soon as he felt a tiny tear trickle out of the side of his left eye, Gilbert blinked, and suddenly the onslaught of feelings disappeared. Traces of it lingered as the ache became duller and duller, until it was nothing but a phantom pain. He swiped the tear aside before Anne could notice. 

“I think I understand  _ exactly  _ how he feels,” he murmured. If she could’ve scooted further away from him, she would’ve. 

“Are you courting your Ann?” she asked, hesitating against her own curiosity. 

Gilbert considered lying for a moment, knowing a lie was the answer she was looking for, but if he was going to be her genuine ally, he needed to tell her the truth. 

“We call it dating in this time,” he explained gently, still a bit shaken from what had overtaken him just moments ago. “But yes, her and I have been together for a year and a half.” 

“It sounds as if you love her very passionately,” she said, barely audible over the open windows.  He heard what she couldn’t say -  _ Gil loves me just as much. _ Peeling his eyes off the road, he met her gaze. She didn’t shy from his intensity. 

“I do,” was all he said. “But that’s her, and  _ only _ her. I don’t want you to think that I...expect anything from you just because you’re, I dunno, her past life or something. You guys are still different enough.” 

Tension filled the space between them, but turned into a new type of anxiety as Gilbert tapped his turn signal up and pulled into 47336 Gables Rd.

*

As Anne approached the house, she turned a wondrous smile to the countless blossoms that lined the pathway to the home’s veranda. Gilbert sped along in front of her, skipping steps as he rushed toward the front door. He paused when he noticed her lingering behind him, face buried in some of Marilla’s hardy hibiscus patch. 

“You coming?” he asked gently. 

“Shh, it’s telling me a secret.” Then straightening to face him, she brushed some hair behind her ear. “You didn’t tell me this Green Gables was so dear. It’s just as familiar and beautiful as my own home.” 

For a moment, Gilbert wondered if the name  _ Green Gables  _ could even apply in 2019. But when he shot a look up to the roof, with its green metal panels covering the gables, he wondered if the moniker might stick. 

“There’ll be plenty of time to chat with the flowers later. Right now, there are some people I want you to meet.” 

As if he had delivered grave news, the color drained from her cheeks. Standing among these blossoms, she could close her eyes and pretend she was home. With its pollen fragrances and the tender wind greeting her hello, the garden seemed to know her intimately, a bosom friend in this far off land. But inside the house, full of people who could judge and feel, there was no guarantee that Anne would be welcomed. 

Gilbert outstretched his hand, and Anne took it, trailing behind him slowly as he entered the house. 

Even the inside was like Green Gables. The walls were old, but painted a vibrant pale honey color. They matched the creaky hardwood that had warm undertones. Traces of the past still lingered in the home like a kiss from a lost loved one, making some things familiar to Anne, and others, completely outlandish. 

“Anyone home?” Gilbert called out as they passed a steep stairwell. No answer followed. They crept into the kitchen, allowing Anne to drink in as much as she could. Her eyes were glued to a picture of Ann on the wall when Gilbert nudged her and gestured for her to sit at the dining table. 

She noticed the abundance of plants that lined the windowsills and the sweet smell of dried herbs that wafted through the air, as if the house were trying to soothe and welcome her. Gilbert moved to the screen door by the kitchen, swung it open, and peered out over the endless fields. 

“Matthew!” 

All at once, the air left Anne’s lungs.

“Ah, hello there Gil. How was your, uh, medical test? Is Ann with you?” 

Gilbert blinked, as if he completely forgotten that twenty-four hours ago, he was sitting for the MCATs exam. 

“It went well. Listen, can you come in here a sec?” 

Anne gaped as her mind became a whirlpool of thoughts, but no sound left her lips. Sparing a glance over his shoulder, Gilbert noticed the stunned expression in her eyes, but before he could say anything, the screen door squeaked open. 

“What’s the matter, son?” Matthew Cuthbert said. His gaze fell upon the stunned girl sitting at his table. “Well now, who’s this?” 

“Is Marilla home?” Gilbert asked, ignoring the question. The older man hadn’t stopped looking down at the misty-eyed redhead. She swallowed, but kept her lips pressed tightly together. When Gilbert didn’t get an answer, he pressed again. “Matthew?” 

“Uh, no. Marilla went to visit Rachel. They should be back shortly.” He placed his hand on the counter. “Gilbert, who is this?” 

Later, Anne would look back and realize that perhaps it would’ve been best to allow Gilbert to handle the introductions. After all, he spoke the language of these modern people and understood the things they knew. But she’d been sitting in silence for longer than she’d ever had before, and the words seemed to pour out of her. 

Her chair scraped against the floor as she shot to her feet. 

“Do you ever look at someone and feel as if you have spent your entire life knowing them, but you’re just meeting them for the first time? I suppose meeting me is going to cause you some discomfort, and I assure you, I myself am near hysterical over this whole ordeal. But you have to understand that I never thought I would see you again in this life, and so having you in front of me…” A tear trickled down the side of her face, and she remembered herself. “My name is Anne Shirley Cuthbert. Please, though, spell it with an E. It is a great pleasure to see you, Matthew. You truly have no idea.” 

Matthew’s face hardened, but he wasn’t unkind. If he hadn’t been holding onto the counter, Anne suspected that his knees would have given out from underneath him. Gilbert came up behind Anne, placing a hand on her shoulder. 

“Gilbert…What on earth-?” Matthew stammered. 

“I know how it seems! I know exactly how crazy this is. Just...sit for a minute and let me explain,” Gil replied.

The boy was lucky Matthew considered him family. If he had been a regular Joe-Schmo off the street, a nobody Ann was dating, then he would have gotten the rifle and scared the boy off the property. But this was Gilbert Blythe - John Blythe’s son, Avonlea’s prized scholar, the boy that Ann trusted with her entire life. If he was good enough for her, he was good enough for Matthew. 

So he pulled up a chair, leaned back, and let Gilbert Blythe tell him that his daughter was far,  _ far  _ away in 1904 and that this trembling girl before him had taken his place. He could barely wrap his mind around the fact the details that brought it to be - something about a witch, something about incense. 

He realized he’d been quiet for a long time when Gilbert said, “Say something.” 

“What do you want me to say?” Matthew replied in a voice that didn’t sound like his own. Anne’s hand found Gilbert’s under the table, and she squeezed it. If Matthew Cuthbert rejected her, she wasn’t sure what she’d do. 

“I want you to say that all these years raising the imaginative Ann Cuthbert has opened your mind for this, because I can’t help her by myself,” Gilbert replied with shaky sternness. “I know it’s hard to believe, but open your mind to it.” 

Matthew ran a hand over his gray beard and stared at a scratch on the table. 

“Anne?” he said finally. She peered up at him through her lashes and bit the inside of her cheek to hold a sob back. 

“Yes?” 

“Am I understanding right that...” Matthew swallowed. “That you lived with a Matthew Cuthbert too?” 

“Yes.” 

“And he’s gone now?” 

“Yes.” 

For the first time since Gilbert had told him the truth, Matthew met her glossy, gray eyes. 

“How?” 

“Dr. Spencer believed it was a failure of his heart. There was nothing any of us could have done, but Marilla and I  _ tried. _ ” 

Matthew was a long time in speaking. Gilbert and Anne tried their best to give the man some space, but couldn’t help from watching him with eager eyes. Anne searched for patience inside of her. After all, the man was just discovering that his daughter had been whisked away to the past  _ and  _ that in 1904, he’d been long dead. Still, the longer she waited, the lower her heavy heart sank in her chest. 

“I can see that this is too much. I’ll see myself out,” she murmured. As she neared the front door, she found the house exponentially less welcoming. In the kitchen, Gilbert said something unintelligible to Matthew, but Anne wouldn’t stick around to hear the reply. 

Just as she reached for the handle, the front door swung open, revealing two surprised women with plastic bags on their arms. Anne’s heart tugged toward the first woman the way it did to Matthew. She knew this face -  _ Marilla Cuthbert.  _ The resemblance was startling, from the high cheekbones of her face, to the regal straightness in her shoulders and the gold undertones of her gray hair. 

“Hello,” Marilla said slowly. “Have we met?” 

The other woman laughed, pushing past Anne to stumble down the hallway and drop her bags in the kitchen. 

“Don’t mind your mother, Ann. You frightened her when you didn’t call last night. Oh, and there’s Gilbert. I should’ve known, you both are attached at the hip.”

Marilla and Anne shared an incredulous look. 

“But Rachel, that isn’t-” Matthew started, but Rachel had long ago decided that his thoughts played second fiddle to her own. 

“Gilbert Blythe, if you don’t look whiter than a January snow!” Rachel interrupted. 

“I’m fine, Mrs. Lynde, it’s just...Didn’t you notice anything different about Ann just now?” 

A familiar deja vu feeling poked at Anne. Had she heard Gilbert ask that before?

“I didn’t get a good enough look at her, no! Ann, come in here won’t you? Did Gilbert take you to get your haircut?”  

“Um, no, not exactly.” Did her voice sound like Ann’s? If it did, Rachel didn’t know the difference. 

Anne wasn’t sure what surprised Marilla more - the fact that Rachel hadn’t recognized this new Anne or the fact that Anne answered to her daughter’s name. Creeping by the confused Marilla, Anne moved on silent feet back into the kitchen. 

Standing uncomfortably under this woman’s analytical eye, Anne realized there was no denying this was Rachel Lynde. The voluptuous woman reeked of small town gossip and a passion for judgement akin to the almighty. 

“You’re glowing, Ann! Positively radiant,” Rachel commented. Suddenly she gasped. “Good heavens, are you  _ pregnant?” _

“Pregnant!?” Anne shrieked at the same time Gilbert shouted, “She’s not pregnant!” 

Gilbert scrambled to explain, but Anne had already decided that it had too many years since she tore Rachel apart with her words. 

“The mere suggestion is appalling! I’ve never been impure a day in my life!” Anne stated, pressing her hands on her hips in a way she hoped was convincing. 

Laughter erupted out of Rachel, the way adults laugh when children don’t realize what they’ve said. But Anne was a college graduate. She knew exactly what Rachel’s laughter meant. She shot a glare to Gilbert, who looked like he wanted to up and leave the country. 

“Oh, then I suppose I’ll just drop the birth control pills we just picked up for you to another girl named Ann Shirley! Know any?” 

Anne reared to bite back another response to Rachel, but Gilbert shot up out of his seat and grabbed her by the shoulder. 

“Sweetheart, you know she’s just teasing.” 

His nails dug into her shoulder - a warning. Rachel sighed in satisfaction and plucked her purse from the kitchen table. 

“Marilla, I think I’ve tormented your girl enough for the day. I’ll see you tomorrow at the board meeting.” 

Rachel passed by Anne, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, then called out, “Bye all!” 

The room would’ve been silent had it not been for the clacking of Marilla’s boots against the hardwood of the kitchen floor. She came up behind Matthew, grabbing his shoulder, but her eyes never left Anne. 

“Are any of you going to explain to me what the hell is going on?” 

Anne flinched.

“Don’t swear, Ma,” Gilbert requested gently. 

“This is my house, Gilbert Blythe! Or have you forgotten?” 

To Anne, Marilla was like those birds that open their wings wide to show how strong they are, but Anne had heard that bird’s song more times than she could count. She wasn’t afraid. She stepped out of Gilbert’s grasp and straightened her back. 

“I’ll tell you the truth, but I need you to promise you won’t claim lunacy on me. I need to know that I can trust you,” Anne said seriously. 

If they’d been alone, Marilla would’ve grabbed a broom and swatted at the shaking girl until she stumbled off the property. But then she looked at Gilbert standing resolute behind her and the soft look in her brother’s eye. In spite of herself, Marilla nodded.

This time, Anne told her own story. She introduced herself as if none of the people in the room had ever known an Anne in their lives. She weaved together her own history so that they might understand - the years in the asylum, the circumstances of her adoption, how she’d grown close to the Cuthberts, how Matthew had died, and her and Gilbert had gone off to college. She left out some details, like the fact that her and Gilbert weren’t courting and that she was on the verge of accepting the proposal of a wealthy man. 

“From what it looks like, some people can’t tell that I’m a different person. Perhaps it’s only people that I’m  _ very  _ close with that can differentiate between me and Ann. And if that’s truly the case, then I should be able to assimilate into this world and live as Ann-with-no-E until we can find a way to get us both back where we belong.” Marilla’s eyes were wild, but Anne reached out for her hands. “That’s why I need your help, Marilla. You’d want my mother to help your daughter, wouldn’t you? You wouldn’t turn her out of doors?” 

“I don’t know...If this is a trick Gilbert Blythe-” Marilla stuttered, for once standing on unsolid ground. 

“Trust me, Ma, I thought it was a joke at first too, but then we saw the incense." He paused. "Something else happened to me too.” 

Anne turned to look at him. 

“You didn’t tell me,” she said. 

“I was a little freaked out by it, okay? One minute we were just talking and the next minute I was feeling things that weren’t me. They were definitely your Gilbert’s feelings, as if something you said connected the two of us for a few seconds. Then it was over.” He shrugged. “That’s why I believe her completely now. Because I felt the other Gilbert, so there must be another Anne.” 

“It’s up to you Marilla. I believe her,” Matthew said finally. Anne couldn't bite back her grin. Matthew always believed in her. Now it was up to Marilla who made the decisions no matter which Green Gables she reigned over. Anne would live just as gladly with this Marilla as she did her own, she just knew it. 

“Come on, Ma, you must feel it too,” Gilbert prodded. “Look me in the eye and tell me you don’t. Look  _ her  _ in the eye.” 

And she did. Marilla lifted her chin and stared at Anne with an expression that said  _ Try me, I don’t believe in witchcraft.  _ But as soon as the fortitude had been built up, Anne’s hopeful gray eyes had torn it down. 

Marilla had seen that hopeful gaze before. She remembered it when she first met Ann at the group home, the first time they’d taken Ann to church and promised that God loved her. She remembered it when scrawny Ann swore she wanted to work the farm with Matthew, and how older Ann peered hopefully down at her Redmond acceptance letter. The longer she looked, the more she saw what Gilbert had seen, every freckle and smile line. 

“Marilla, you’re one of my truest kindred spirits. You’re the woman who raised me,” Anne pleaded almost soundlessly. 

Suddenly, the tension in the room dispersed to nothing as Marilla threw all her logic to the wind and opened her arms to Anne. The girl collapsed into them, burying her face into the fabric of Marilla’s blouse and letting tears trickle down her cheeks. Marilla felt her own heart soften. The girl’s hair had the same fragrance, and her frame was so like Ann that she could almost pretend they were the same girl. 

“You must’ve been so scared,” Marilla murmured, stroking Anne’s hair. The girl scoffed, the sound muffled against the shirt. 

“I woke up in bed with Gilbert. Can you imagine?” she lamented.

Marilla let out a loud guffaw, smiling wider when Matthew grumbled beside them, standing up with his coffee cup in hand. When Anne heard him, she tore away from Marilla and launched herself into his arms. Her grip was tight around his waist, and she wept happy tears into his shoulder. 

“I’ve missed you so much,” Anne cried. When his arms finally came up around her, he rubbed her back the way he always did with Ann and pressed a kiss to her head. 

“There, there. No reason to cry so much. We got you.” 

She couldn’t contain her happiness, even when she pulled back. The Cuthberts had chosen her again. She had a family to lean on,  _ her  _ family! Maybe this new perspective would benefit her too.  Gilbert wrapped his arm around her, and she leaned her head onto his shoulder. 

“I just hope Marilla and Rachel accept Ann, too,” she admitted quietly to him. 

“Ann has never met a person who didn’t like her. She’ll be alright. For now, we have to blend you in with this world so people really do believe you’re Ann.” 

“How do you propose we do that?” 

Gilbert thought for a moment, then flashed her a wicked grin.

“I’m calling in reinforcements.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up Next: Ann finds an unlikely ally in Green Gables! 
> 
> Thanks for reading! As always, if you enjoyed it I'd love to hear it! If you wanna chat about aogg, I'm on tumblr ~ @royalcordelia


End file.
